Star Wars: White Snow: Contention
by Vhetin1138
Summary: The second installment of Year 2. When a bounty hunter begins kidnapping Mandalorians and forcing them to hunt for him, Vhetin and Jay are asked to investigate. Rated T for violence and language.
1. Prologue

Prologue

**Keldabe, Mandalore**

Kardai Areur strode down the dirty, misshapen street, picking his way around piles of trash or ducking under laundry lines strung across the street. It was a warm summer's day and _Mando'ade_ all across the city were taking advantage of the weather to get essential work done. He'd heard that MandalMotors was having a special weapon expose within the week and Aramis at the _Oyu'baat_ was having a buy-a-beer-get-a-beer-free deal.

In fact, it was the calm atmosphere of the city that had brought Kardai. He was in town to pick up new equipment and supplies for his imminent return to his homeworld of Concord Dawn. Normally, Keldabe was a little too... rowdy for his tastes. Between the Imperial garrison, _aruetii_ troublemakers, and frustrated Mandalorians, Kardai usually thought he was better off on his own so he wouldn't get caught up in something he wasn't prepared for. It was a belief that had served him well in the past.

Looking back, Keldabe had changed much since Kardai had first visited the city, so long ago, before the start of the Clone Wars. It was true that the Imperial presence hadn't done much to soothe the consciences of the local Mandos, but there was no denying that the Imp's desire for order had helped the city at least superficially. Now, sprinkled among the haphazardly-built apartment buildings and rickety tapcafs were new, slate-gray buildings that housed ammunition stores, Imperial recruitment offices, and local security checkpoints. Though their presence was an irritation for those who, like Kardai, often found themselves on the wrong side of Imperial law, it was nice to see some semblance of order in the city.

He'd heard _Mand'alor _Shysa had had trouble in the past few months with Mandalorian violence against Imperial troops. The HoloNews was rife with such reports; a stormtrooper squad was cornered here by a lone Mando gunmen, an officer would be taken hostage by a group of Mandos planning to ransom him. It was growing more and more common these days. Kardai couldn't say he blamed any of the Mando perpetrators; if the Imperials decided to increase their hold on Concord Dawn, he'd damn sure be mad about it.

But even violence against other Mandos wasn't uncommon now. Only the other day, Kardai had seen a HoloNet report detailing an incident where a group of young warriors had ganged up on a Clone Wars veteran and beaten him to death. No provocation to justify the attack, no reason for such violence. The old man had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He shook his head. As bad as things might seem, he was still forced to admit that it was better than the days of his youth. Back during his days as a young man, during the rule of old _Mand'alor_ Mereel, he had seen for himself what most Mandalorians were like: ruthless, petty, violent. Many held true to the honorable beliefs of most modern _vode_, but others took the combat training of the Mandalorians and used it to better their own lot. And it wasn't as if that was a new development. His kin had been ruthless and barbaric stretching all the way back to the time of Mandalore the First.

Depressing? Of course. But under the guidance of _Mand'alor'e_ Mereel, Fett, and now Shysa, his brethren had set aside their savage history and embraced a path of honor. It was long past due.

He stepped into a fairly well-kept shop, nodding to the gray-haired man sweeping up. He stepped aside to allow the man to sweep dust out the open door, then waited for him to set the broom aside and take his place behind the counter.

"Can I help you, _vod_?" the storekeeper eventually asked.

Kardai nodded. "I placed an order for five ton of grassgrain seed? We spoke over comms yesterday."

The storekeeper nodded. "I remember. Not much call for grassgrain this time of year. Stretched my stocks, don't you know."

"It may be summer in Keldabe," Kardai replied as the storekeeper pulled up an order manifest on the countertop holoterminal, "but it's planting season on Concord Dawn. I need that seed moved to my ship as soon as possible."

"Easy, _vod_, easy," the storekeeper chuckled. "You'll get it. I said you stretched my stores, not drained 'em."

The man eyed Kardai's armor, bare pounded metal with no paint scheme other than random splashes of black, like oil stains on dull silver metal. "So... you're an engineer?"

"Foundry worker," Kardai corrected.

"So what's the grassgrain for?"

"Locals gave me a shopping list when they found I was on my way to Keldabe," he explained. "Since it's planting season, there's a lot we need."

"Ah," the storekeeper said. "Happy harvest to you, then. _K'oyacyi, vod_."

Kardai nodded. "_K'oyacyi_."

The storekeeper handed him a sheet of flimsiplast. "Turn that over to my delivery agent at the spaceport. He'll authorize the movement of the grassgrain to your ship."

"_Vor'e_."

The storekeeper inclined his head. "_Kih'parjai_."

Kardai turned and moved to step through the door, but found another Mandalorian standing there. The Mando was wearing red and gold armor and had some kind of bulky neck guard. Kardai nodded to him, standing aside to allow him passage into the shop.

He should have sensed something wrong. There was something off about the Mando that was off, something that made Kardai uncomfortable. So part of him wasn't surprised when the Mando pulled out a blaster pistol and aimed it with a shaky, unsteady aim at the storekeeper.

"_Gun_!" Kardai shouted and dove toward the weapon. He grabbed the Mando's wrist and tried to wrestle the blaster from the man's grip. He was not as young as he once had been, however, and his opponent was a Mandalorian warrior still in his prime. The Mando quickly and easily brushed Kardai off, knocking him into a display of farming equipment. Kardai shook his head, bright points of light dancing in his vision. He reached up and touched his head, which had knocked hard against the durasteel display case, and felt his fingers come away sticky with blood.

The blaster-toting man took a staggering step into the shop, weapon once again shakily aiming at the storekeeper. The storekeeper raised his hands in a placating gesture as the man took another step toward him.

"Easy, _vod_," the storekeeper said soothingly. "No reason to do anythin' hasty."

"Y-you... are T-Talon Retur'ce?" the Mando with the gun gasped, sounding as if he was in pain. He doubled over, holding his helmeted head, then straightened. His aim was steadier now. "S-supplier for t-the Protectors?"

"Aye," the storekeeper murmured. "That's me. What's... what's your name?"

"I... can't..." the man groaned, putting one hand to his helmet forehead. "If I don't kill, he'll..."

He then let out a pained yell and arched his back, spasms running through his body. He twitched and staggered, holding his head and screaming through his helmet vocoder. Kardai staggered to his feet and grabbed a rake he had crashed into, holding it like a bat. He was about to bring it down on the Mando's head when the man suddenly stopped screaming, whipped around, and fired at him. A bright green blaster bolt hit him in the leg, just above his shin plate. He shouted in pain and fell.

"S-see?" the man cried, spinning back to the storekeeper, Retur'ce. "I-I'm not kidding!"

"Never thought you were, mate," Retur'ce said, still holding his hands up. "Why don't you just put down the gun and tell me what's wrong?"

"I... I c-can't..."

"Why not?"

The man shook his helmeted head. "I... I have to kill you. He said so."

"Who said so?"

Kardai struggled to his feet again as the man staggered and cried. "I can't tell you. He'll hurt me again!"

"Okay, okay," Retur'ce said slowly. "Let's calm down, mate. Can you tell me about yourself? Will he hurt you if you tell me your name?"

"I... Matt," the man gasped. "Mattlo Besuliik."

"All right," Retur'ce said, "Matt. That's a nice name. Now that we're gettin' chummy, why don't you tell me a little more? You got a family, Matt?"

He nodded, putting one hand to his helmet forehead. He twitched once, as if in pain, and gasped, "Wife... and baby daughter..."

"Any blood relatives?"

"A... adopted brother..."

"Okay, good. What about your wife?" Retur'ce said. He caught Kardai's gaze and nodded. Kardai didn't need a translation: the storekeeper would talk the man down, giving Kardai a window to take him out. He grimaced as he fought to rise to his feet again, pain from his blaster wound slowing his progress.

"M-my wife?" Matt said slowly. The words came out slurred, as if he were drunk or half-asleep. "Name... her name is Lia."

"_Mando'ad_?" Retur'ce inquired.

Matt shook his helmeted head with a groan. "_Auretii_."

"_Mandokarla?_"

"Of course."

Retur'ce nodded, as if considering that. Kardai grabbed a nearby digging spade and used it as a sort of cane to haul himself to his feet. He cursed when he knocked two rakes together, making a loud clattering sound in the process. Fortunately, Matt seemed to be solely focused on Retur'ce. His blaster hand was shaking, but he hadn't lowered the weapon yet.

"And what about your daughter?"

Matt chuckled, then grunted and held a hand to his head again. "She's... she's my pride an' joy. Gonna name her Ruusan."

Retur'ce nodded, his gaze softening with real sympathy now. "That's an old, hearty Mando name. Good name for a little girl."

"I... I just wanna go home," Matt gasped, staggering slightly. "Please... please let me go home."

"I'll let you go home," Retur'ce said. "Won't even call the cops. _Haat, ijaa, haa'it_."

Kardai took a step closer, grasping his shovel tight. He limped closer, until he was only a step behind Matt. Retur'ce made a subtle cutting motion with his hand, signaling Kardai to stand down. He obviously thought he could talk the kid down.

"Why don't you put down the gun," Retur'ce said, "and no one has to get hurt any more. We can get you to the enforcement office. They'll protect you and your family."

"No," the man sighed, almost sadly. "You can't protect me. Not from... _him_."

He raised the pistol again, his aim this time as steady as a rock. He aimed the weapon squarely at Rerur'ce's head and placed his finger on the firing stud. Kardai knew he would only have a moment. Moving quicker than he had in a long time, he stepped up behind the Mando and prepared to slam his shovel across the armored man's head.

Matt seemed to have regained some of his combat capabilities, however. He whipped around and grabbed the shaft of the descending shovel, holding it tight with an iron grip. He cursed, then drove a knee into Kardai's stomach plate, making him double over and fall to his knees. A follow-up knee to the faceplate floored him.

"You..." Matt sounded distraught as he spun back to Retur'ce. He looked as if he could barely stand now. "You _liar_! Y-you were just trying... to get me to let my guard down!"

"What'd you expect?" Retur'ce snapped, still holding his hands up. "You say you're going to kill me. You know what'll happen if you're caught. The Codex is clear: Mandos trying to kill other Mandos is punishable by exile or death."

Matt shook his head. "The... the Supercommando Codex... I-I don't..."

Retur'ce suddenly lowered his hands and barked, "Put down the damn gun, kid. Put down the gun or you'll never see Lia or Ruusan again! Think of your family!"

"_I am_!" Matt shouted. "_He_ knows where the are! H-he says he'll... he'll _kill_ them if I don't do this..."

"Tell me where they are," Retur'ce shouted back. "Let me _help_ you, vod! We can call the enforcement office, get them to put your family in protective custody!"

"_No!_" Matt roared, raising his pistol again. "No, it has to be this way. I'm sorry, _vod_, but I have to do this. I d-don't have a choice!"

Kardai moved almost without thinking. He reached down to his belt, grabbed his heavy combat knife from its sheath, then plunged it down through Matt's left boot. Blood immediately welled from the wound and Matt screamed, a high-pitched shriek of agony.

Kardai yanked the blade free and staggered to his feet, ready to follow up with a slash to the kid's blaster arm. The distraction proved worthwhile; as soon as Matt's back was turned, Retur'ce grabbed his own pistol from behind the counter, flipped the setting over to stun, and fired two shots into the man's back. Matt instantly collapsed, screaming as electrical surges coursed through his system. He twitched and crawled across the floor, hands shaking so badly he dropped his pistol. He broke down in spasms again, writhing on the ground, knocking over nearby displays as his legs kicked out rapidly. He began letting out pained little grunting sounds, fingers scrabbling at the floor. Then he suddenly flipped over and let out another long scream of agony, arching his back and clenching his hands into fists.

"What the hell?" Retur'ce said, stepping out from behind the counter. "He shouldn't be screaming that much. Not from a low-energy stun round."

Matt continued to writhe and scream, clutching at his helmeted head, legs kicking out and knocking over nearby storage containers. He tried to pull himself up on a nearby counter, then slipped and crashed back to the floor. He began twitching sporadically now, no longer crawling away. His head whipped from side to side and he was letting out soft, gurgling sounds.

Kardai knelt next to Matt, ignoring the pain in his wounded leg, and pulled his helmet off. The young man had a long, gaunt face, brown eyes, and black hair and beard. His eyes were rolled back in his head and he was frothing at the mouth, squirming and twitching erratically. He was muttering something through his frothing lips, but Kardai couldn't pick out individual words, _Mando'a_ or Basic.

"'Ey, _vod_," Retur'ce said, kneeling on Matt's other side. He slapped the man's face. "Snap out of it. I didn't hit you that bad."

When Matt didn't respond, the storekeeper slapped him harder. "Oi! You listenin' to me?"

Then Matt fell suddenly still, eyes still rolled back in his head. He let out a long sigh and didn't breathe again.

Retur'ce shook him, but Kardai had seen enough battles to know the difference between a man who was sleeping and a man who was dead. This man was definitely the latter. When Retur'ce moved to slap him again, Kardai caught his arm and said, "Give it up, _vod_. He's not going to be waking up."

Retur'ce cursed and shook his head. "Son of a bitch," he muttered."I thought I could talk him down."

"Not your fault," Kardai said. "Some people just can't be reasoned with."

He sighed and gently closed Matt's eyes, murmuring, "Rest, _vod_. I don't know who you are or what you were trying, but you were _Mando'ad. _You will be remembered."

Then he looked over at Retur'ce and said, "What the hell happened to this kid?"

* * *

_Author's Note: This is out a bit earlier than I wanted, but I figured since _Liberation_ took so long to complete, I owe you guys a little extra. As far as writing news, I'm pleased to announce that I'm almost done with Chapter 1 already, and I've also got a secondary project I'm going to be working on when I've got writer's block on this series. The first sneak peek should be posted soon. Keep an eye out for it._

_As always, reviews, comments, even criticisms are always welcomed._


	2. Chapter 1

A long time ago,

in a galaxy far, far away...

Star Wars: White Snow

Contention

_Strange things are happening in the Mandalorian capital city of Keldabe. Mandalorian violence against their fellows has suddenly and rapidly increased. Local authorities have no idea as to the cause of this sudden surge in crime. News reports are simply advising Mandalorians to stay in their homes and remain cautious of strangers._

_Meanwhile, bounty hunter Jay Kolta is returning home victorious. For the last three months, she has been desperately searching for her lost partner, Cin Vhetin. Now, after a daring rescue, Vhetin is free again and the partners are returning to their home on Mandalore._

_But their loved ones are not the only ones eager to see them again..._

Chapter 1: Homecoming

**Freelance Transport **_**Void**_**, hyperspace tunnel en route to Mandalore system**

Vhetin sat cross-legged in the center of his quarters, helmet and flight suit top removed. He was inspecting the bandages that still covered his body, particularly a blood-soaked portion on his shoulder. He gingerly peeled away the gauze, grimacing as the dried blood caused it to stick to the wound. When he had succeeded in removing the bandage, he drew another length of medical bandage from a medkit lying open on the floor in front of him and began wrapping it around his shoulder.

He was still weak from his incarceration. Three months of malnutrition and disease didn't just disappear overnight, no matter how much bacta was pumped through his system. He didn't know how long it would take for him to be back up to speed, but he knew it would be quite some time.

Illness aside, he couldn't put into words how glad he was to be free. The Facility, as he and his fellow prisoners had called their prison, had been hell itself as far as he'd been concerned. He'd been subjected to horrible biological tests, his lungs punctured with hand-length needles and his body ravaged by a synthesized pneumonia virus, all so the Imperials could discover a way to meld his genetically-produced physical abilities with human physiology. Their tests had always ended in failure, however, their carrier virus creating nothing but twisted, psychotic abominations of life that infected anything they interacted with. Vhetin himself had been lucky, only receiving a severe case of pneumonia, fever, and frequent vomiting.

He scowled and shook his head. So much death... what kind of a person could look at such research and believe it was a good use of time, money, and personnel?

With effort, he pushed such dark thoughts from his mind. It wasn't important now; the Facility had been destroyed during his escape, and all the Imperial scientists with it. Even if the Empire had contingency plans to safeguard the research, it would take them months to rebuild. He had time to relax, recuperate, and plan for such an eventuality.

A smile tugged at his lips as he remembered who he had to thank for his deliverance; Jay, his partner and best friend, who had apparently spent the entirety of the last three months searching for him. He had to admit, he was surprised at the devotion she had shown him. He had always known she was loyal, but to spend so long searching for him and never give up hope...

He finished tying the bandage around his shoulder, gingerly touching the skin around the gauze to make sure it was secure.

Yes, Jay had exceeded all his greatest expectations when he had first agreed to train her as a bounty hunter. She had assembled a special infiltration team to help her sneak into the research base where he had been held. She had assembled everything from Echani to Trandoshans to a massive alien bounty hunter known as D'harhan, who sported a gigantic laser cannon where his head used to be.

He suddenly closed his eyes as a wave of nausea swept over him. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to bury the sensation. It worked, at least for the moment.

Yes, he was still sick from his pneumonia infection. One of the side-effects of this new virus was that his lungs repeatedly filled with a bio-engineered fluid, viscous and black, that he had to regurgitate every few hours. It made breathing difficult and if anyone else was exposed to the fluid, they would be infected by the virus as well. It was dangerous and disgusting. Vhetin couldn't wait for the viral infection to wear off.

If it ever wore off.

He swallowed with difficulty, setting aside the medkit. He looked around his dark quarters – the lights had hurt his eyes, so he had kept them switched off – and slowly rose to his feet. He walked over to a set of armor lockers bolted into the bulkheads next to his cot and stared up into the faceplate of a Mandalorian battle suit. It was his old armor, painted matte black with lighter gray stripes. He smiled a little again and typed in a code to open the locker. With a hiss of escaping pressurized air, the transparisteel cover slid open.

Within minutes, he had pulled the armor from the locker and arranged it on his cot for easy access while he dressed. He was about to pull on his flight suit when the feeling of nausea returned, stronger this time. Once again, he tried to suppress it, to bury it down inside where it wouldn't effect him. This time, it didn't work.

His stomach churned and his chest tightened, sure signs that regurgitation was inevitable. He quickly looked around the room, his gaze falling on a waste basket set up next to his desk. He quickly grabbed it and sank to his knees, closing his eyes and attempting to regain control of his stomach.

There was a knock at his door. He grimaced as his stomach tightened dangerously. "Hold... hold on a second."

"Cin?" came Jay's voice from the other side of the door. "Are you all right?"

He couldn't answer. In the next moment, his stomach lurched and he vomited black fluid into the waste basket. Jay must have heard him, because the next moment the door slid open and she took a concerned step inside. He quickly threw out a warning hand.

"Don't..." he gasped. "Stay back."

She did, eyes wide and worried. "Are you all right?"

"Just give me a-" he spewed preservative fluid into the waste basket again. His chest was so tight, lungs constricting so powerfully, that his torso bandages were actually coming loose. He put a hand to his wounded chest and vomited another long stream of fluid.

Finally, the feeling of nausea began to abate. After he was finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of one hand and fell away from the waste basket, back hitting the edge of his cot. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get his rolling stomach under control again. When he could speak, he opened his eyes and looked over at Jay, face shrouded in shadow.

"Sorry about that," he panted.

"You can't help it," she said, taking a step closer. "Are you okay now?"

He nodded, swallowing audibly. "I actually feel a little better after I do that. It's hard to be nauseous when you have nothing left to puke up."

She laughed a little, then leaned against a bulkhead. "I'm sure you just need some rest. You'll be back to new in no time."

Vhetin nodded, rubbing his sore throat. "I hope so. It would be a shame to be a free man but spend the rest of my life infected with this damn disease."

Jay nodded, then looked over at the desk next to her. She noticed an activated holopic on the desktop and slowly picked it up. Glancing over at her, he saw she was holding a pic of Brianna. It was an image he remembered well: he had taken it himself. They had been walking one day, two or so years ago, on a sunny Market Day when she had found a new pistol for her armament collection. He had insisted on taking a pic of her with her treasured new weapon.

"I thought you said the Imperials destroyed your picture of Brianna?" Jay said, studying the picture with a slight smile.

"They destroyed my favorite," he replied, pulling himself into a more comfortable sitting position. "I had others."

"Did you miss her?"

He chuckled, then held his stomach. "Nice to see your sense of curiosity is still intact, Jay."

"I'm sorry," she quickly said. "It's none of my business. I just thought, you know, since you two had broken up-"

He held up a hand. "It's okay. I was joking."

He stared at the floor ahead of him and narrowed his eyes. "I... yes, I missed her. I missed her a lot. There were times I spent the entire day in my cell thinking about nothing but her. Her eyes, her smile, her laugh..."

"You still care about her," she said, slowly setting aside the pic. "A lot."

"Breakup or no," he said, "five years together is a long time. Three months apart won't change how I feel."

He hesitated, not sure he wanted to ask the question that next rose to his mind. "How... um, do you know how she's doing?"

She nodded. "I kept an eye on her while you were gone. Made sure she was doing okay."

"And?"

She sighed. "When I told her about what happened on Mon Calamari... she took it hard, Cin. She took it really hard. It made me wonder whether I should have told her at all. After she heard the news she disappeared for over a week, never leaving her apartment. Mia went to check on her, but she wouldn't unlock her apartment door to let her in."

She shrugged. "Even after she started showing up in public again, she was... different. Quieter, a little less outgoing. I think she blamed herself for what happened."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I think she believed that leaving you robbed you of your desire to defend yourself. That she weakened you emotionally, made it easier for the Tracker to get at you."

"That's ridiculous," he said. "I mean, yeah she hurt me. But she was never a factor in my decision to fight the Tracker. I decided to fight to _protect _her."

She shrugged. "That's just what I think."

"And what about now?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Cin, but I haven't had contact with her recently. All I know is nothing but rumors and hearsay. I'm not really willing to fill your head with stuff that might not be true."

He stared at her for a few moments, then nodded. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

"Look on the bright side," she said, "Mia commed before we jumped to hyperspace and said Brianna agreed to meet us at the spaceport. She'll be waiting for you."

He nodded. That news had been at the forefront of his mind since he'd heard. The idea that she would be right there when he stepped down the landing ramp after so long apart... it was the best news he'd heard in a long time.

But he had forced himself to calm himself when he had first heard the news. For all he knew, she would just want to remain friends. Just because he'd been held captive for the past three months didn't automatically mean they were back together again.

He eventually pulled himself to his feet and said, "In any case, thanks for keeping an eye on her. It means a lot to me."

Jay nodded. "It was the least I could do."

He nodded as he set about replacing his armor. He pulled his flight suit over his head, slipped into his armored flak vest, then pulled his black facemask over his head. He then settled his Mandalorian battle helmet over his head, his suit sealing with a hiss of pressurizing air. His amber-hued HUD activated in a flash of light, then began feeding him information about his surroundings: the chemical balance of the filtered air, a status report of the engine coolant conduits thrumming away beneath the floor, even the speed of Jay's heartbeat and respiration.

He saw she was smiling at him and he tipped his head curiously. "What?"

She shook her head, still smiling. "It's just good to see you in that armor again. Somehow it seems like you're actually back when you walk around in your kit."

"Understandable," he said, grabbing his jetpack from where it was leaning against the wall. He settled it over his shoulders, waiting until the magnetic clamps set into his back plate locked the pack to his armor. Once done, he grabbed his lightsaber pike and clipped it to the side of the pack. "You've never actually seen me without my helmet. My armor is the only thing you recognize of me. Without it, I'm just some random guy."

"We've been through a lot together," she pointed out, "I think that makes you more than _just some random guy_, even when you don't have your helmet on."

Vhetin nodded and stepped through the door, heading for the cargo bay. He had to check up on stocks, see what supplies Jay had brought for the mission.

"Speaking of which..." Jay began hesitantly. "When do you think you might let me finally see your face? You know, without your mask on?"

He paused, frowning behind his helmet faceplate. "I... I don't know, really. Why?"

"Just... curiosity," she said. "I mean, it feels kind of weird that we're such good friends, but I don't even know what you look like. Don't tell me it isn't weird to you."

"No," he admitted. "Now that you mention it..."

"Why do you keep it on in the first place?"

"Rame has always said it's because I'm shy," Vhetin replied. "To be honest, I really don't know. I just feel more comfortable with it on."

"I would have thought it was because you wanted anonymity during hunting contracts. You were able to sneak around that restaurant back on Mon Cal that one time because no one knew who you really were."

"I guess that's part of it," he said with a shrug. "Like I said, I mostly just don't feel all that comfortable without it."

"If that's how you feel," she said, sounding slightly disappointed. "Anyway, we should be arriving in the Mandalore system in the next couple hours. You'll be back before you know it."

He keyed open the door to the cargo bay, the largest room on the ship. The entire room was stacked with cargo crates, shipping containers, and weapon lockers. Vhetin saw some new crates mixed in with his old stocks, but nothing too out of the ordinary. The food ration had been mostly untouched, as had the weapon lockers; Jay had obviously relied on her own ammunition to carry her through her mission. Of the new crates, Vhetin saw minor equipment upgrades, scanning kits, and several crates of heavy weapons and ammunition.

But Vhetin and Jay weren't the only ones in the cramped cargo bay. The Handmaiden was also present, near one corner. She had her hood pulled back and her collapsible quarterstaff was in her hands. She was spinning the weapon in her hands, lashing out at empty air with powerful, carefully-measured strikes. Jay folded her arms and leaned against a bulkhead, watching the Echani carefully. Vhetin followed suit.

The Handmaiden moved with a smooth grace that contradicted the violence of her motions. Watching her, Vhetin was reminded more of a dancer than a seasoned soldier. She spun and flipped, her staff carving arcs through the air, her hands moving too quickly to follow. She fell to her knees, whipping her staff over her head before driving it down into the floor, using the momentum of the blow to carry her to her feet again. She then made her way towards what looked like one of Vhetin's old wooden armor mannequins.

She began bashing away at the dummy with blows from her staff, kicks, even punches. Her attacks grew faster and faster, until Vhetin could barely see her movements; she was little more than a white blur against the slate-gray bulkheads that surrounded her. Eventually there was a loud _snap_ and the mannequin's head was knocked off by the sheer force of her attack. The wooden head bounced across the floor as the Handmaiden took a slow step back, retracting the durasteel shafts of her weapon. She was panting hard, gloved hands clenched into fists. She stared at the now-headless mannequin for a few moments, then looked up at her surroundings, as if only now realizing there were others in the room. When she saw Vhetin and Jay standing against the wall, she narrowed her blue eyes.

"I was unaware I had spectators," she said, pulling her hood back over her head.

"We were just admiring your combat skills," Jay said. "Right Cin?"

Vhetin said nothing. Though the Echani's display was indeed impressive, he wasn't about to give her such a compliment. She was arrogant enough as it was.

But Jay wasn't about to let it slide. She nudged Vhetin's arm hard and said, "_Right_ Cin?"

He glared at her, then grunted, "Right. I guess."

Handmaiden clipped her staff back to her black leather belt, then folded her arms. "Was there something in particular you needed?"

"I was just coming to check up on my supplies," Vhetin said, stepping toward the cargo crates. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be resting like the others?"

"An Echani is trained to always be prepared," she explained. "The end of one battle does not guarantee there will not be another."

"That's a little pessimistic, wouldn't you say?" Vhetin asked, prying the lid off one of the equipment upgrades. Inside, he saw an advanced signal scrambler, military-grade and very powerful, designed to shut down enemy scanners and jam outgoing communications.

He frowned and looked up at Jay. "This is an Imperial prototype. Where did you get it?"

She shrugged. "We raided an Imperial supply depot that was housing some of the instruments your Whiteclaw scientists were using. After we dealt with the Imperials, we decided it would be a shame to let all that equipment go to waste."

He shook his head. "You do realize we'll all be shot if Imperials decide to search the ship and they find this?"

"All the more reason to get it installed quickly," Jay said with a grin.

He re-sealed the crate and said, "So just how many Imperial bases did you attack trying to find me?"

Jay glanced at the Handmaiden, who shrugged and turned away, once again returning to her combat practice. Jay eventually looked back at Vhetin and said, "I don't know, three? Four?"

Vhetin was about to say more when the cargo bay door slid open and he heard large, lumbering footsteps. He looked over at the door in time to see D'harhan's massive frame as the alien squeezed himself through the door. Surprisingly, Rame was following close behind.

"All I'm saying," he was muttering, "is that you were shot almost thirty times in the chest. I don't know just what kind of alien you are, but most people have important organs stored in that region. At least let me examine you so we don't have to worry about you keeling over on us."

"_UNNECESSARY_," D'harhan's voice boomed from his synthetic voice box. "_MY KIND ARE EXTREMELY RESILIENT. I WILL HEAL IN DUE TIME."_

Rame threw his hands up in defeat and shook his head. "I don't believe it. This guy's more stubborn than you are, Cin."

"Maybe he hates needles as much as I do," Vhetin suggested with a shrug. He slid the cargo crate back into its place with the others, then turned to watch D'harhan as the alien stomped up to Jay.

He was certainly a spectacle. Over three meters of hulking muscle, he had dark, leathery green skin with large patches of reflective black armor plating surgically fastened onto his body. A complex mechanical tail was also implanted into his spine and a sharp, barbed clamp sprouted from the end of the metallic tail, allowing D'harhan to grasp the ground. He used this function of his tail to transform the prosthetic into a support strut while he fired his primary weapon: a tremendous light-mass blaster cannon that was surgically implanted into his neck. What had happened to his head, Vhetin could only guess.

Vhetin didn't particularly enjoy the idea of a nine-foot walking death machine waltzing around his ship, so he had taken to keeping a cautious eye on the alien whenever and wherever possible. During the trip, however, the massive bounty hunter had done little apart from sit quietly in the engine room, cannon powered down. If Vhetin didn't know better, he'd think D'harhan had been sleeping.

Jay seemed much more at ease with the hulking bounty hunter. She smiled at him as he approached and said, "What can I do for you, D?"

"_WE ARE NEARING THE MANDALORE SYSTEM_," D'harhan rumbled. "_WE SHOULD BE TRANSFERRING TO REALSPACE WITHIN THE HOUR_."

Jay nodded and thanked him, stepping toward the door. Vhetin followed her, eager to be home again. D'harhan, meanwhile, studied the Handmaiden's combat practice with the sensors mounted on his head-cannon. The Echani noticed his scrutiny and stopped, lowering her quarterstaff.

"What?"

D'harhan shrugged, the support girders and coolant tubes set about his neck creaking and groaning. "_IT CONTINUES TO ASTOUND ME THAT YOU ARE SUCH A PROFICIENT WARRIOR WHEN YOU CHOOSE TO WIELD SUCH... PUNY WEAPONRY._"

"I would rather be skilled in combat and wield a puny weapon," the Handmaiden replied evenly, "than trust all my battlefield skills to a single oversized explosive device."

"_YOUR NARROW-MINDEDNESS IS WHY YOU SHALL NEVER BE ABLE TO CRIPPLE AN IMPERIAL WALKER WITH A SINGLE SHOT._"

"And your brutishness is why you shall never understand the term _stealth_," the Handmaiden shot back, "nor implement it in combat. Now leave me to my practices."

D'harhan's cannon-head lowered with a buzz of hydraulics. "_AS YOU WISH._"

The massive alien then turned and lumbered after Vhetin and Jay, heading for the door. As they passed, Jay glanced at Rame and said, "What about you? Any medical concerns I should be aware of?"

"I've patched up everyone to the best of my ability," the medic reported as they walked. They paused a moment once outside to allow D'harhan to struggle through the door again. Once they were sure he could extricate himself from the cargo bay without getting stuck, the three set off toward the cockpit.

"How's Ti'ica holding up?" Jay asked quietly. "Losing Trassk back in that place was obviously hard on her."

Rame nodded. "It was. But she's doing better now. She's glad that he went down fighting, at least. And she says we managed to kill at least a hundred Imperials in that explosion. She thinks everyone's even now."

"Good. Keep an eye on her, will you?"

"Sure thing," Rame replied with a lazy salute. He parted ways with them at the door to the tiny, cramped medical bay. "I'll be here if you need me. Cin, don't forget that you're going to need another immuno-booster. After being infected with your pneumonia disease for so long, your immune system is weak. And the surgery to get those plugs out of your body didn't do you any favors."

"I won't forget," Vhetin replied tersely. "I wouldn't want to be killed by a simple cold. That would just be embarrassing."

"Remember that sentiment the next time you complain that you hate needles," the medic said, then disappeared inside.

Jay stopped at the entrance to Vhetin's quarters. She gestured to the door and said, "You go ahead and get some sleep. I'll wake you when we're ready to descend."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I want to be there when-"

"It will take time to authorize the ship for landing in Keldabe," she said. "You know that. Get some rest and I'll wake you up when we're ready to land."

"I don't..." he paused, then sighed and nodded. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He was still exhausted from their escape and the last thing he wanted was to be tired when he met Brianna again. So he thanked her and let her continue alone to the cockpit. He keyed open the door of his quarters. He cautiously removed his armor, careful not to irritate his wounds. Once done, he rested himself slowly on his cot, letting out a sigh of relief. He closed his eyes and within minutes, he was asleep.

* * *

"You aren't making things any easier for yourself, Primary."

Vhetin shook his head, pulling against his restraints. The electro-shock binders crackled and sent jolts of pain up his arms, but he ignored them. He kept his gaze fixed on the tabletop in front of him, refusing to meet the doctor's gaze.

"L-let me go," he gasped. "I'm n-not telling you anything."

"Unfortunate."

Vhetin screamed as the power to his binders was increased and electricity coursed through his system. Sparks flew through the darkness, casting twisted, monstrous shadows across the walls.

The torture ebbed after a few moments and his captor leaned forward. "Tell us what we want to know, Primary. How do you use your abilities? Your speed, strength, psychometric imaging; all you have to do is give us the information and you can return to your cell."

"_I don't know!_" Vhetin shouted, breathing hard. "I... I can just _do_ these things! You think its some kind of kriffing _magic trick_?"

Another surge of electricity, another wave of pain. When the pain finally faded, Vhetin slumped forward in his chair, struggling to draw breath into his fluid-filled lungs. He let out a wheezing cough, blood dripping from his lips.

"Very well," his captor finally said after several long, silent moments. "Then perhaps you can explain how to cure the molecular degeneration your genetic material causes in other subjects."

Vhetin let out a weak laugh and looked up at the doctor through streaming eyes. "Do I look like a geneticist? Even if I did know, why would I help you fix your disease? This degeneration you keep talking about is the only reason you haven't used it yet."

The doctor narrowed his eyes. "Yes, we figured you would reason along similar lines."

He tapped a button on his datapad and the electro-shock restraints sputtered out. With a loud _click_, they snapped open, freeing him. He slowly sat up in the chair, rubbing his raw, bleeding wrists. He narrowed his eyes at the doctor and said, "What is this?"

The doctor shrugged. "My superiors merely wish to show you exactly what your defiance is accomplishing. If you would please step forward."

He gestured to the shadowy figure of a large window built into the wall behind him. Vhetin cautiously stood, cautious not to irritate the needle-plugs set into his chest, arms, and legs. He limped toward the mirror while the doctor stepped into the shadows, out of sight.

Vhetin stepped closer to the reflective surface of the window. He glanced in the direction the doctor had vanished. What was going on?

The lights suddenly flashed on, flooding the room with white-hot light. Vhetin cursed and shielded his eyes. When his eyes eventually adjusted to the new illumination, he squinted to see through the window in front of him. Through the window, he could see several medical beds lined in a row. The restraints looked as if they had been ripped out of their housing.

Vhetin narrowed his eyes. It would take great strength to rip out of those medical beds; he knew that from personal experience. Yet here were five beds, all of them looking as if they had been attacked by something.

He was about to look back at the doctor when something hit the window. He cursed and fell back, scrambling away from the window on all fours.

Staring at him was a monstrous being with gnashing teeth, stringy brown hair, and open sores along its arms and face. As Vhetin watched, the single figure was joined by several others, all clawing at the window. They were dressed in the tattered, bloodstained clothing, letting out pained groans and gurgly screams as they tried to bash their way through the transparisteel.

He heard footsteps behind him and looked up to find the doctor standing next to him. He scrambled to his feet and pointed to the window. "What the hell are those?"

"The product of your resistance," the doctor said, eying the monsters calmly. "The consequences."

He looked over at Vhetin with distaste and said, "Why don't you take a closer look? I believe you will find something familiar."

Vhetin glared at the doctor, then took a cautious step toward the window, staring at the first creature that had jumped at him. It snarled at him, bashing its fists against the window, drooling and growling at him. At first he didn't see anything besides a monster. Then his blood ran cold as he met the creature's gaze and he instantly recognized the soft brown eyes that stared balefully out at him.

He put a hand against the window, thinking, _no... no, it can't be true._

"_Brianna_?" he whispered.

The creature let out a screeching roar and slammed its head against the window, leaving a bloody splatter mark against the transparent surface. Vhetin took a horrified step back, beginning to now recognize the others. Rame was to Brianna's left, eyes flashing, slamming his fists against the window. Jay was on the right, gnashing her teeth and raking her bloody fingernails down the window's surface. Venku was in the room as well, as was Mia. They had all been transformed into monsters, all of them covered in blood and oozing sores.

Vhetin closed his eyes and took another step away, fighting the urge to vomit. "No... no, it can't be possible. You're lying!"

Someone suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder and slammed him back against the window, only inches from the drooling, roaring creatures that had once been his friends and family.

"_Look at them_!" a new voice shouted. "Look at what you've done! This is _your_ fault!"

"No," he groaned, "no, I was trying to keep them safe!"

The being holding him against the window suddenly flipped him around and grabbed him tightly around the throat. Vhetin gasped and grabbed at the being's wrist, then stopped dead when he saw just who was attacking him now.

It was himself.

Another Vhetin, this one dressed from head to toe in his black-gray Mandalorian armor, was pinning him by the throat against the window. He was grasping a lit lightsaber pike in one hand, the blade of which hummed violently.

"You're weak," this new Vhetin growled, staring coldly at him through his T-visored helmet. "Pathetic. You cause all of this, then snivel like a child when you're faced with the consequences of your actions."

"K-kriff... you," Vhetin gasped, futilely trying to pull New Vhetin's arm from his throat. "If I'm... responsible for this, then... so are you. We're the same!"

"_No_!" New Vhetin shouted. He slammed Vhetin against the window again, hard enough to crack the surface. Vhetin could hear the sounds of the monsters that had been his friends growling and moaning in anticipation.

"No!" New Vhetin shouted again. "I am everything that's _good_ about us! All our strength! You're nothing but our weaknesses, everything that makes us _weak_!"

"I... am everything that makes us human," Vhetin managed to choke out. "Everything that makes us a _person_."

New Vhetin stared at him, unmoving, for a long time. He didn't release his tight grip on Vhetin's throat, but he thought New Vhetin was considering letting him go. Then New Vhetin cocked his helmeted head slightly and said, "Who in the hell made you think I want that?"

"What?" Vhetin managed to say. Then New Vhetin drove his pike forward, skewering him through the chest with the glowing energy blade. Vhetin's eyes went wide as fire washed through his chest and he let out a strangled, choking gasp.

"Vader and the Imperials trying to kill us?" New Vhetin snarled, slowly pulling the blade free. "That was _your_ fault for growing a _conscience_!"

He punctuated _conscience_ by stabbing forward again. Vhetin let out another choked scream, struggling as he felt the glowing blue lightsaber blade of the pike carve through his chest again.

"Brianna leaving us? That was _you_!" Another stab.

"The Tracker hunting us? _You again!_" Stab.

Vhetin slumped, feeling slipping from his extremities. He felt blood leaking from his lips, could smell his own cauterized flesh as New Vhetin drew the pike away again. New Vhetin now leaned close, until the faceplate of his helmet almost touched Vhetin's nose.

"And Whiteclaw?" New Vhetin whispered. "All the pain they wrought? All the horrors they inflicted on the innocent? There's no one to blame but _you_!"

With that, he pulled Vhetin forward, then slammed him against the window again. He felt the clear surface of the window give way and he toppled back into the room beyond in a shower of shattered transparisteel. He landed hard, skidding across the smooth floor until his back hit the far wall of the room.

He tried to struggle to his feet, but he saw the infected Brianna towering over him. He tried to crawl away, but she threw herself on him, tearing at his face and arms with her fingernails. He tried to shove her away, but she sank her teeth deep into his shoulder. He screamed and shoved her away, but monster-Jay now threw herself at him, latching onto his forearm with sharp teeth.

As one, they descended on him, scratching or biting wherever they could. The last thing Vhetin saw was the image of himself staring unsympathetically through the shattered window.

* * *

Vhetin sat bolt-upright in his cot, breath coming in sharp, short gasps, the sheets soaked with cold sweat. He looked around the room, frantically looking for a weapon. When he didn't feel teeth or claws tearing at his skin, however, he slowly paused, then relaxed. He slumped back against his cot, his head hitting the pillow hard.

A dream. Nothing but a dream.

He rubbed his clammy forehead, afraid to close his eyes again lest the nightmare suck him back into its clutches. He rubbed his eyes and let out a long sigh, listening to his heartbeat slowly begin to slow to a more calm, steady pace. After a few moments, he looked over at the chronometer on his desk: he'd only been asleep for twenty minutes.

He sighed again and sat up, wincing and holding his sore chest. This wasn't the first time he'd experienced this particular nightmare, nor would it be the last. It always unfolded the same way: the interrogation from the faceless doctor, the attack by his armored doppelganger, and finally his death at the hands of his friends, who had been infected by the Whiteclaw disease.

He slowly swung his legs over the edge of the cot and stood, walking over to the armor locker that held his armor. He stared up into the menacing T-visored helmet for a few moments before tapping in the code to unseal the locker and allow him access. Once done, he pulled his helmet down and cradled it between his hands.

He slowly returned to his cot and sat down, staring into the tinted T-visor with vision still blurry from sleep. He shook his head and tapped at the visor with one fingertip, murmuring, "Why do you hate me so much?"

Of course, the helmet provided no answer. So Vhetin just sighed and set it aside, returning to the locker and pulling the rest of his armor on. He was halfway through replacing his flak vest when his quarters' personal intercom crackled and Jay's voice said, "Cin, we're beginning our final descent to Keldabe. Get your armored butt up here, sleepyhead."

He blinked, then struggled into the rest of his armor at record speed. He didn't even have his helmet on fully when he hit the opening stud for the door and stepped into the hallway. He quickly pulled his bucket over his head and booted up the HUD as he all but ran for the cockpit. When the door slid open, he saw they had transferred back to realspace; the front viewport showed the infinite black of space, sprinkled with bright pinpoints of distant stars.

Jay looked over as he entered, a smile tugging at her lips. "Dressed and in here in forty-five seconds? That has to be a new record, Cin."

"I don't want to miss this," Vhetin said, sliding gingerly into the copilot's seat. "I've been gone too long."

Jay tapped a few buttons, then reached up and typed in a descent vector to the navicomputer. She smiled at him and said,"Welcome home, Cin."

The ship pivoted, the motion easily felt through the vibrating deck beneath his feet. As _Void_ turned, Vhetin saw the endless expanse of twinkling stars give way to the view of an all-too-familiar blue-green world that he had been waiting months to see again.

"_Manda'yaim_," he whispered, almost despite himself.

The planet was one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever seen. A mixture of dark greens, deep blues, and swaths of pale brown across the equator, the planet was the largest in the system. A small hurricane was forming near the coast of one equatorial continent, and there was a large storm over the north-eastern quadrant of the planet. The poles were sprinkled with white, the snows creeping further and further south as the fall season approached.

Starships of every make and model darted in and out of _Void_'s field of vision: fighters, freighters, capital ships. Vhetin saw mercenary gunships, MandalMotors-issue cargo transports, and TIE fighters, all mixed together in a dizzying collection of spacecraft.

It was a few long minutes before _Void_ began tunneling down into the atmosphere, the space just outside the ship glowing red-hot with entry burn. It was a rough ride for a few moments, the deck kicking violently beneath Vhetin's boots and the hull creaking dangerously. Then the ship broke free of the atmosphere and coasted down over a seemingly endless stretch of forest. Vhetin's heart began to pound as they entered familiar territory: he could easily pick out the two towering peaks of the _T'ad Mand'alor'e_ mountains that flanked the entrance to the Kelita River Valley.

The forest abruptly gave way to flat grassland and the multi-colored square patches of farming fields. He found himself craning his neck to take it all in, like a child at an exciting vacation spot. He tried to force himself to relax, but could not contain his excitement as he caught glimpse of a sprawling cityscape in the distance, near the far end of the valley.

Within five minutes, they were soaring in over the borders of Keldabe, Mandalore's capital city. Vhetin looked down to see the familiar urban sprawl of his home, with buildings constructed everywhere and anywhere there was room. The streets were crooked and uneven; one would be hard-pressed to find a straight street in the entire city. Even from their vantage point, Vhetin could see the streets crowded with people. This view vanished when _Void_ turned in mid-air and headed for the north-eastern sector of the city, toward a large air traffic control tower.

"Keldabe Ground Control," Jay began transmitting, "this is freelance transport _Void_, requesting clearance to land and offload supplies."

"One moment... alright, clearance granted, _Void_," the GC officer replied. "Any luck out there?"

Jay glanced at Vhetin with a grin and said, "The best kind."

"Ah! Congrats, _vod'ika_! Put 'im on the line, would you?"

"Sure thing. Stand by."

Vhetin leaned forward and said, "Morning, Ground Control. I take it Jay's been through your airspace quite a bit, huh?"

"More times than I can count," the GC officer laughed. "Good to have you back, _vod_. Dunno what we'd do without one of our premier _beroyas_ gracing us with his presence every other week. I mean, without you bums, it's just a lotta people tellin' us where they're goin' and what they're doin'. You _beroyas_ are the only ones who add a little mystery to the lives of us simple GC officers with all your _can't-tell-you-what's-goin'-on osik_."

Vhetin grinned despite himself and said, "Well you'd better get ready. If it's mystery you want, I have it in spades."

"_Oya, vod_!" the GC officer chuckled. "Welcome home. Kick those dirty Imps in the balls a few times when you next see 'em, will you? For me?"

"Sure thing."

"_Vor'e_. Ground Control out."

_Void _coasted in towards a circular landing bay near the edge of the spaceport complex. Jay worked the ship's controls with the ease and skill of a seasoned pilot, letting the freighter glide smoothly down through the air. Vhetin's heart was pounding as the ship drew closer and closer to the landing bay. Now that they were closer, he could see a small party waiting for them, maybe five or six people. From this distance, he couldn't see if Brianna was among them.

_Calm down,_ he thought to himself. _She'll be there._

He folded his arms and sat back in his chair, tapping one foot impatiently. Jay glanced over at him as she brought the ship down. "Nervous?"

He let out a long breath he didn't know he was holding. "I've been gone for three months. That's a long time."

She let out a quick laugh. "Relax, Cin. It's not like anyone's forgotten you. Aramis kept a booth open for you in the _Oyu'baat_ just in case you showed up again. And Ume'o's been complaining that without your outlandish equipment requests, the MandalMotors R-and-D department has been slacking off. You've been missed, big guy."

He nodded, still tapping his foot. Jay brought the ship in for final landing preparations, reaching up and hitting a few buttons along the ceiling-mounted control panel. The landing struts disengaged and slid down from their housing. Vhetin could feel the vibrations of the motion through the bulkheads beneath his feet.

"And with that..." Jay muttered to herself, easing the ship down. The landing struts hit the surface of the docking bay with a loud _thud_ that could easily be heard within the ship. The cockpit shook a little as _Void_'s weight dampeners redistributed balance along the ship to keep it upright, then with a long, slow hiss, the ship stilled and didn't move again.

Instantly, Vhetin was out of his chair and heading for the door. Jay seemed to understand his excitement, because she hit the button to disengage the ship's landing ramp.

He hurried through the central hall, almost running in his haste. He saw the landing ramp disengage and lower in front of him, flooding the interior of the ship with warm, white light. He felt a smile tug at his helmeted face as he stepped out into the warm summer air.

Surprisingly, Venku was the first one to greet him. As Vhetin stepped outside, the younger Mando strode up the landing ramp. He grinned when he saw Vhetin's black-gray armor and held out a hand. Vhetin slowly grasped his forearm in a traditional Mando handshake.

"It's good to see you again, _vod,_" the young Mando said. "You had us all worried."

"It's been too long, Venku," Vhetin said, still thinking about Brianna. He couldn't see her from his vantage point, but that didn't necessarily mean she wasn't there.

Venku shook his head and said, "I don't know what Jay's told you, but everybody thought you were dead."

"So I've heard. I bet it'll be a great night for _Oyu'baat _gossip when I walk through the door again."

Venku laughed. "I'll take that bet."

Vhetin nodded, smiling a little. "How have the past few months treated you?

"Okay," he said with a shrug. "_Ba'buir _grounded me after I got back from Mon Cal. Haven't been out of the bastion since today. You?"

Vhetin shook his head as Jay stepped past them, heading down into the spaceport. "Oh, you know... incarceration, experimental biological augmentation, medically-induced pneumonia. I've been better."

Venku grimaced sympathetically. "Yeah, Jay filled me in on the details. Sounded like a rough ride."

_You have no idea_, he thought. But instead, he said, "So how's everything been on the home front?"

"It's been a busy three months," Venku said, folding his arms. "Quite a bit has happened. Umeo's nerfs had calves, _Mand'alor_ Shysa got to speak in front of the Imperial Senate about increased monetary aid to Mandalore. He was almost arrested afterward for punching the Twi'lek Senator in the mouth after the _aruetii_ called us a quote-on-quote _bunch of bucket-heads_."

Vhetin shook his head. "Good old Shysa, always looking out for us."

"Even from the inside of a prison cell," Venku said, nodding. "Oh, which reminds me, Janada probably wants to talk to you."

"She knows I'm back already?"

"Not exactly. She's been... out of contact for about a week. And considering the stuff she's been getting up to lately, she'll probably need some assistance. Sooner rather than later."

He raised an eyebrow and Vhetin sighed and said, "I know where to find her."

"Good," the Mando said. He turned back to the spaceport, leaning against _Void_'s bulkhead. He watched Jay's progress across the spaceport floor. A smile tugged at his lips as he said, "I knew from the way Jay's voice sounded when she commed that she'd found you. She hasn't been this happy since you disappeared."

"She was that worried about me?"

"Hell yeah. She barely focused on anything besides finding you."

Vhetin's eyebrows shot up when he saw Jay walk straight up to a gold-armored Mandalorian, throw her arms around his neck, and give him a passionate kiss on the lips. He watched the two for a few moments, then looked to Venku for elaboration.

"Oh yeah," the young man said. "I guess that's one of the things that's changed since you've left."

"Who is he?" Vhetin asked.

"Denton Dral," Venku explained. "Local police officer. They met when Jay was being hunted by Suirotnoc and those Mando traditionalists. Been dating ever since, apparently."

"You sound upset."

Venku shrugged, his shoulder pads creaking slightly. "I thought Jay and I had something special. Apparently I was wrong."

"I'm sorry," Vhetin said. Then his gaze fell on a particular woman who was just stepping through the door of the spaceport. His heart almost stopped when he saw her standing in the doorway and she stopped in her tracks, staring at him.

A little numbly, he stepped past Venku and murmured, "Excuse me."

He broke into a jog, heading for the spaceport floor. She made straight for him as well, her face stretching into a beautiful smile Vhetin hadn't seen in three months. As soon as they were close enough, she threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. They stayed that way for a long time, Vhetin holding onto her with all the desperation he'd felt over the past months. She buried her face in his neck and let out a long sigh.

"I've missed you, Brianna," he murmured, closing his eyes and savoring the feel of their embrace. He'd waited so long to see her again, had dreamed about her every night for the past three months. His heart was hammering in his chest, but he didn't think he'd ever felt happier.

She let out a quiet laugh and held him, if possible, even tighter than before. "Fierfek," she sighed. He had never been more glad to hear her soft, smooth Coruscanti accent. "It's so good to see you. I thought you were _dead_."

He shook his head and pulled back, holding her at arms length and studying her. He looked exactly like he'd remembered her in his dreams: long, light brown hair, kind brown eyes, high cheekbones, strong chin... he had remembered every detail over the course of his incarceration. She was wearing a simple, sleeveless work shirt and baggy work pants. Her hair was tied back in a functional braid and she was wearing a pair of heavy Mandalorian boots. She looked good, if possible even more beautiful than he remembered.

Then he hugged her again and let out a long, exhausted breath. "I've missed you so much, Bri."

He moved to give her a gentle headbutt, an armored Mandalorian's kiss, but she pulled away before he could. He frowned and rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. "What's wrong?"

She avoided his gaze, keeping her eyes on her boots as she stepped back, out of his reach. She bit her lip and whispered, "Don't... don't do that."

"What? Is something wrong?"

A tall man in black-red battle armor approached them. Vhetin glanced at him, the bounty hunter side of his studying every detail he could see.

He was a few inches taller than Vhetin, with broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms. He had a chiseled, square face with a slightly crooked nose and an old scar over his right eye. His long black hair hung down a little past his ears, evidence that he had not recently worn a helmet; _Mando'ade, _both male and female, tied up long hair when wearing their buckets. His armor was painted polished black with blood red trim and his flight suit was cut just beneath the shoulder pads to display his muscular arms.

Vhetin narrowed his eyes at this newcomer, wondering why he was intruding. Couldn't he see this was a private conversation? But, to his confusion, the man walked straight up to them and said, "Aren't you going to introduce us, _Brian'ika_?"

Vhetin's gaze snapped to her. _Brian'ika_? This stranger was using the affectionate version of her name? What the hell did that mean?

She continued to avoid his gaze as she said, "Galaar, this is Cin Vhetin. He's an old friend."

Vhetin stared at her, uncomprehending. Old friend? He had been her boyfriend for more than five years, long enough for people to ask when they were going to get married. That made him more than just an _old friend_.

"Cin," Brianna said quietly, sounding as if she wanted to be anywhere else, "this is Galaar Ash'amur, my, um... my-"

"Her boyfriend," the tall man supplied with a grin, holding out a hand. "Call me Snake."

Vhetin stared at the man's outstretched hand for a few moments, long enough to make the man's grin falter. Then he clasped Snake's forearm and shook it once, tersely. Once done, he looked back to Brianna and said, "Can I talk to you for a minute? In private?"

Snake raised his hands and said, "I get it. You two have a lot of catching up to do. I'll be waiting in the spaceport for you to finish. Don't take too long, _Brian'ika_."

Vhetin watched him leave, a scowl darkening his helmeted face. Then he turned to Brianna and gestured for her to follow him to a more private area of the spaceport. She followed, still looking at her boots, unwilling to meet his helmeted gaze. As soon as he was convinced they were out of earshot of the others, he rounded on her.

"_Boyfriend_? Are you kriffing _kidding_ me?"

"Cin," she began, "let me explain-"

"The entire time I've been gone, you've been seeing someone else?"

"It's not like that," she said desperately. "I just-"

"Son of a bitch," he said, turning his back to her and shaking his head. He couldn't believe it. She was his oldest friend, a woman he trusted with his life, a woman he loved with all his heart. And she had simply moved on after he had been captured?

He turned to her again. "Five years, Brianna. _Five fierfeking years_ we're together and you find someone new when I disappear for _three months_?"

"I thought you were _dead_!" she snapped, anger creeping into her voice now. "I thought you had died when that damned spaceport exploded!"

"Your confidence in my survival skills leaves quite a bit to be desired," he growled, folding his arms and glaring at her.

"I wanted you to come back," she said quietly. "I... damn it, Cin, I _prayed_ that you would come back. But when you didn't show up and Jay's search didn't so much as find evidence that the Imperials had even recovered your body..."

She shrugged helplessly. "I moved on. It wasn't easy, but I had to. I couldn't keep drowning in grief."

"I was only gone _three months_."

"It might as well have been three years!" she cried. "I-I couldn't go on without you! So I decided that I had to let you go so your memory wouldn't drag me down with you!"

He cursed and shook his head. "First you break up with me just when I need you the most, then you give up on me when I'm not back home within your timetable. I thought you were better than that, Bri."

"Don't pretend like you don't feel the same-"

His arms flashed out and he grabbed her shoulders. "I _never_ felt that way! The thought of you has been the only bright light in my life since I was captured! I dreamed about you every night, thought about all the times we shared whenever those damn Imperials were running their tests! You kept me _alive_ in there, Brianna! _You_ got me through this!"

She shrugged his hands away and took a step back. She looked torn between feeling distraught at their current predicament and angry at his desire to pick up where they had left off. She eventually shook her head and said, "I'm sorry you feel that way, Cin. But you and I were over long before I ever broke up with you. You need to wake up and realize that."

She turned to leave, then hesitated. Her voice took on a softer, more somber tone.

"I mourned for you," she murmured. "Ask Rame or Mia or Jay. It was days before I was even able to get out of bed. I had to find something to keep myself from simply dying of despair. And Galaar was there for me. I'm... I'm sorry, Cin."

He watched her incredulously as she walked away, disappearing into the spaceport. He continued staring at the spot she had occupied until he heard footsteps behind him. He shook his head and blinked, as if just waking up from a horrible nightmare, and slowly turned to find Jay and the gold-armored Mandalorian. He had his arm slung around her shoulders and she had a dying smile on her face.

"Oh," she said quietly, smile fading completely. "You found out about them, huh?"

He said nothing.

"Well," she continued hesitantly, "I wanted to introduce you... but if now's not a good time..."

"Now is fine," he said, his voice too tense and angry for anyone present to believe him.

"Right," she said, glancing at the gold-armored Mando next to her. "Um, well, I want you to meet Denton Dral. My boyfriend? He's been waiting a long time to meet you."

The man extricated his arm from around Jay's shoulders and held it out for Vhetin to shake. He did so, a little numbly. His mind was still reeling from Brianna's revelation and nothing else was really registering with him.

"Nice to meet you," he said, still staring at the spaceport doors through his HUD's 360-degree wraparound vision.

"You too," Denton said, putting his arm back around Jay's shoulders. "_Ja'ika's_ told me a lot about you. She's been downright obsessed with tracking you down the past few months. Made her a nightmare to be around."

She grinned and nudged him in the ribs. "Take that back."

He raised his chin stubbornly. "I stand by my words. Make me."

"Anyway," she said, turning her attention back to Vhetin, "Denton gave me all kinds of information that made my job finding you a lot easier. He's the one who arrested the Tracker."

Vhetin nodded. "Good work. The Tracker deserved to be thrown in jail."

Denton grinned. "Don't I know it. From all Jay told me of your guys' work on Mon Cal, he made Suirotnoc look like an Ewok."

"He did," Vhetin echoed. "He almost killed both of us."

He stepped past them. "It was good to meet you, Denton. Excuse me."

Then he made his way across the spaceport, avoiding the gazes of everyone present, and headed back to _Void_. He strode up the landing ramp, no doubt looking as if nothing was wrong from the outside. Internally, however, his heart was in turmoil.

Brianna had a _boyfriend_? It didn't make sense. She'd always been there for him. _Always_.

He shook his head and shut down his HUD, finding the amber-colored holographic readout distracting. No, it couldn't be possible. She'd _always_ _been there_. She was the first person he'd seen when he'd woken after the accident that had stolen his memory, all those years ago. They had grown up together, trained together, hunted together. He had known her before Rame, before Janada, before Jay, before _anyone_. How could she just move on after so long?

He shook his head again and half-staggered into the cargo bay, desperate to be alone so he could think over this. He put a hand to his helmet forehead, feeling his head throb behind its protective shield of _beskar._

How could she? How _could she_? Didn't she realize how much she _meant_ to him? How much the memory of her had helped him while he'd been imprisoned? He would have died without her, he knew. How could she just find someone new, after all they had been through?

"You do not look pleased to be home," a quiet voice said.

He spun, pistol drawn and aiming squarely at the white-clad form of the Handmaiden, who was sitting cross-legged on a cargo crate and staring at him with her disconcertingly pale blue eyes. She had her hood pulled back and her shoulder-length white hair was stirred slightly in the breeze wafting in from the lowered exit ramp.

"Why are you still here?" he growled. "I would have thought you'd have wanted to jump ship and get away from us dirty Mandos as soon as possible."

She tipped her head to the side, her cold gaze holding his. "I am not entirely finished with my stay on Mandalore. Besides, I enjoy the cargo bay. It is much colder than the rest of the ship. It reminds me of my home."

"That's great," he said, slowly holstering his weapon. "But this is my ship, not yours. Please leave."

She shook her head. "I do not think so. I have no desire to face the crowd come to welcome you back. Until they disperse, I will remain here."

Vhetin let out a low snarl of irritation that was silenced behind his helmet, then spun and stormed out of the cargo bay, slamming the door shut behind him as he went. Even after he'd reached the blissful, deserted silence of the cockpit and sealed the door behind him, his heart still pounded with rage. He half-collapsed into the pilot's seat and ripped off his helmet, letting it bounce away across the floor.

Between his treacherous ex-girlfriend, her _di'kut_ of a "boyfriend," and the Echani bitch planting her flag in his ship, he was beginning to wonder if he had been better off trapped with Project Whiteclaw.

It was about twenty minutes before he heard a quiet rap against the durasteel door of the cockpit. He looked up and said, "Who is it?"

"Jay. Can I come in?"

He quickly scooped up his fallen helmet and pulled it back over his head. Once done, he unsealed the cockpit door. "It's open."

The plating over the entrance slid open and she slowly stepped over the threshold. She looked nervous, as if she was half-expecting a blaster shot to the face instead of a greeting. She stared at him for a few moments. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

She sighed and made her way into the cockpit, easing herself into the copilot's seat. "Look," she said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Brianna. I just didn't know what to say. I couldn't exactly show up and say, _Hey Cin, I'm here to rescue you. By the way, your ex-girlfriend's dating someone else_."

He shook his head. "I don't blame you. I probably wouldn't have believed you anyway. I would have had to hear it from her."

She nodded and leaned back in her chair. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. You had something really special with Brianna. Everyone could see it. It makes me sad to see that it's over."

He sighed, leaning back as well and closing his eyes. "Five _kriffing_ years, Jay. We've been together since we were both just teenagers. How can she forget all that after just three months?"

She shrugged sympathetically. "You need someone a lot wiser than me to answer that question, Cin."

She hesitated, then said, "If it's any consolation, Ash'amur's a real asshole. He acts all charming and nice when there are other people around, but if anyone pisses him off he turns vicious. He even went after me once. Denton leveled him with an uppercut to the chin and two other Mandos had to pull him away from the fight, but still..."

She looked over at him. "I honestly think Brianna was happier with you."

"Maybe," he said, then sighed. "I don't really want to think about it any more."

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, he looked over at his partner and said, "What about you?"

She turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "What about me?"

"This Denton guy. What's his story?"

She smiled and turned her gaze back to the ceiling. "He was born here on Mandalore. His dad was a cop, big surprise there. He signed on to the Keldabe force when he was eighteen and he's been trying to keep the streets safe ever since. "

"How'd you two meet?"

"He was the reporting officer when those Mandos were trying to kill me. He and Mia tracked down Suirotnoc and his gang. You met him actually, when everyone was up at the bastion pointing their guns at each other. I don't think you spoke to him, though.

"A few days after the whole deal was over, he offered to buy me dinner. We took it from there and we've been dating ever since."

He nodded to himself. Vhetin had read the police report of Suirotnoc's fanatical stalking of his partner. He had wanted to be sure she wouldn't be in any further danger. From all he'd read, Officer Dral was honest, trustworthy, and concerned about the outcome of all his cases. A true _Mando'ad_, in every sense of the word.

"And how do you feel about dating again? You know, after..." He was hesitant to bring up the subject. He knew that Jay had been involved in a secret relationship with her commanding officer while serving with the navy. Her boyfriend, a young man named Sade Nesson, had been killed in action in the same conflict that had resulted in Jay's imprisonment. She still had serious emotional scars from that day.

But she shrugged calmly and said, "I think I'm ready to be with Denton. It's been almost a year and a half since Malachor."

"So you've moved on?"

She glanced over at him, frowning. There was no anger in her expression, however, just curiosity. "Moved on?" she echoed. "I never said that. I don't think I'll ever move on."

"But you just said-"

"I'll never forget Sade," she said, readjusting her position in her seat. "And I'll never stop loving every memory we made. But he'd want me to be happy. He'd want me to find someone else."

He wondered if Brianna had reasoned along similar lines. "And are you happy?"

She stared at the readouts on the ceiling for a long time. Then she smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I am. It's good to have someone to care about again."

She glanced over at him and grinned playfully. "Well, besides you of course. I mean, who doesn't want a mysterious loner Mandalorian with serious emotional baggage to be a part of their life? No offense intended."

"None taken," he murmured, staring at the control console in front of him. Then he sighed, sat forward, and began spinning up _Void_'s engines. Scans showed that everyone who had come to greet him had disembarked the ship and left the spaceport. Even the Echani had disappeared, at least for the moment. Jay noticed his actions and sat up as well as the ship began to hum and the deck began to vibrate beneath their feet.

"What are you doing?"

He flipped several switches and warmed the repulsor systems. "What you said reminded me of something. There's someone I need to go see. Someone I haven't seen in a long time. You're welcome to tag along if you want."

"Sure," she said with a shrug, buckling herself into her seat's crash webbing. "Who do you need to visit?"

He smiled a little despite himself as he guided his ship into the air and pointed it toward the north of Keldabe.

"My sister."

* * *

**Imperial Garrison Command, north of Keldabe, Mandalore**

Vhetin strode through the front doors of the Imperial headquarters, Jay just behind him. Together, they progressed past numerous security checkpoints as they made their way deep inside the facility. Jay merely had to turn over her pistol and her vibroblade, but Vhetin was forced to surrender his jetpack, gauntlets, even his kneepads – they were outfitted with dart shooters – before he was allowed to enter.

"Satisfied?" Vhetin said skeptically as a trooper finished scanning him for any ingested explosives or IEDs.

The trooper nodded and stepped back, deactivating the scanner. "You're clear. You can move through."

Jay brushed off the trooper that was giving her an overly thorough pat-down and muttered, "Pig."

He pointed a finger at her and growled, "Don't give me a reason, precious. You try and pull anything and you'll be stunned, cuffed, and jailed before you can bat one pretty eyelash."

"Come on," Vhetin said, putting a hand on his partner's shoulder and leading her away. "We'd better move on. We don't want any trouble."

"So explain something to me please," she said as they made their way down the hall, away from the security checkpoint. "I always heard you were a loner: few friends, no family, you know. I never knew you had a sister."

"I don't. Not biologically. She adopted me as a little brother under Mandalorian custom."

"Still, I always heard you didn't have any family."

"You heard wrong."

"Why did you never talk about her?"

He shrugged. "It never really came up."

"Whatever," she said with a sigh. She looked around with distaste at the slate-gray walls for a few moments. Finally, she muttered, "So she works at Imperial Garrison Command? Surprising for a Mandalorian."

"She doesn't work here," he said. "She wouldn't be caught dead working for Imperials."

"So why is she here?"

"She's being... held for questioning."

"Oh. _Oh_."

"It's nothing serious," he quickly clarified. "Apparently she got into a scrap with a couple Imperial officers a few days ago. She was arrested and sent here. I said I would get her out."

"You sound as if this is nothing new."

"It's not," he said with an amused sigh. "She's been through here so many times she knows all the guards on a first-name basis."

"Wow," Jay said, shaking her head. "You certainly know how to pick 'em, Stripes."

"Technically she picked me," he pointed out. "I was only about fifteen when she adopted me. It was right before she was caught trying to sneak a crate full of angry nexu kittens into the Governor's personal quarters. She went to jail for a few months after the Imperials discovered the damage."

"Wow," she said again. "She sounds like quite a character."

"You'll see for yourself in a few minutes."

It was some time before they finally made it to the holding cells. Vhetin made a mental note to check back with the troopers on their way out – and to keep Jay separated from them – so they could reclaim their armaments. Imperials may be sticklers for law and order, but some of them weren't too proud to degrade to everyday thievery.

Once they emerged into the main hub of the detention cells, Vhetin stepped up to the control station in the center of the room. It was staffed by a pale, sick-looking human who was typing quickly into a holoterminal. He rapped his knuckles against the polished black surface of the control station to draw the man's attention.

The Imperial looked up, squinting at him, and muttered, "Eh? What, what do you want?"

"Vhetin and Moqena," Vhetin explained, gesturing to himself and his partner, "here to visit a prisoner."

"Identification?"

Vhetin produced his pilot's license, which the sick man looked over with a stifled cough. After a few moments, the Imperial handed the license back and continued tapping into his terminal. "Who're you here to see?"

"Prisoner two-eight-seven-JB," Vhetin said calmly, tucking the license back into his belt.

"Oh. _Her_."

"Is there a problem?"

The man coughed again, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "_She's_ the problem. She was processed three days ago and hasn't stopped attacking guards since."

"Sounds like quite the charmer," Jay muttered, half to herself.

Vhetin ignored her. "What did she do to get in here in the first place?"

The man sighed, wiping his clammy forehead. "Four days ago, a pair of stormtroopers were dispatched to a local cantina in response to a disturbance call. When the troopers arrived at the... _Oy'bat_ tapcaf?"

"_Oyu'baat_," Vhetin corrected.

"Yes, there," the Imperial said. "When the troopers arrived, they found the prisoner engaged in a fight with two off-duty officers. The officers had her pinned against an alley wall, but she still managed to break free and attack not only the officers, but also the investigating stormtroopers. Two more troopers had to be called out before they managed to subdue and restrain her. She's been here ever since."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "You needed six Imperials to take her to jail? I'm starting to see the family resemblance, Cin."

Vhetin bit back a laugh. So far, nothing in the report came as a surprise to him. The woman in question was as tough as Mandalorians came and had taught him everything he knew about hand-to-hand combat outside of his preferred Teräs Käsi fighting style. A couple half-drunk Imperial officers, even supported by stormtroopers, would be easy pickings.

"Can I see her?" he asked.

The man typed into the holoterminal in front of him, squinted at it, then sniffed. "The roster says there's already someone there – looks like a boyfriend – but she's refused to see him. You can try your luck, but keep your visit under fifteen minutes."

"One more thing," Vhetin said before the Imperial could return to his terminal. "She's been given a chance at bail?"

"Yes, though she's refused to pay it."

"I'll take care of it. How much?"

"Two thousand."

Vheitn nodded and dug out several high-denomination credit chips, tossing them onto the main desk. The Imperial scooped them up and said, "Now if you'll just take care of this paperwork..."

Vhetin did as he was told, quickly finishing the paperwork before pushing it back to the Imperial. The man looked it all over, then nodded. "That's fine. She'll need to appear in court in two week's time, but you can tell her she's free to go."

He nodded and stepped past the desk, heading for the door that led to the facility's holding cells. As someone who was frequently on bad terms with the Empire, he knew the way as confidently as he knew his way to the _Oyu'baat_. He'd spent several nights in here himself.

As he turned the corner into the long hallway that housed the base's holding cells, he saw that he and Jay weren't alone. Another Mandalorian was standing alone in the hall, arms folded across his chest. He was wearing dark green and black armor with a dark brown flight suit and a tattered black shoulder cape. His expression was weary and he rubbed at his short beard as he stared at the heavy blast door in front of him. He looked up when he heard Vhetin's approach and shook his long black hair out of his face. His face broke out in a tired smile.

"Vhetin," he said, stepping forward and clasping Vhetin's arm, "I heard you had showed up again. I'm glad you came."

"It's good to see you, Verdo," Vhetin said with a nod. He gestured to Jay. "This is my partner. I don't think you've met."

"Jaimie Moqena," Jay supplied, shaking hands with the Mandalorian. "Nice to meet you."

"Verdo Canveri," he said with a nod. "Vhetin has told me a lot about you, Jaimie."

"Jay, please."

Vhetin, meanwhile, had stepped up to the heavy durasteel door and peered through the small window. The room beyond was too dark to see anything. Just a dark smear seen through dirty transparisteel.

He looked back to Verdo. "How is she?"

He let out an exhausted chuckle. "As calm and collected as she always is."

"Oh. That bad, huh?"

"Worse. She's been attacking any Imperial that comes in and she won't even talk to me. I tried to pay her bail so she can get out of here, but I just don't have the credits."

Vhetin nodded slowly and said, "I paid her bail. She's free to go once I'm finished talking to her. I'll see if I can calm her down."

Verdo raised his hands in warning and took a step back. "Your funeral, _vod_. I have first-hand experience dealing with her when she gets like this. I'm staying out here."

Vhetin cracked a smile that was hidden behind his helmet faceplate. "If I'm not out of there in ten minutes..."

Verdo laughed and gestured for Vhetin to go ahead. Jay glanced between the two, looking completely lost. He didn't blame her; he and Verdo had known each other for over five years.

Vhetin gestured for Jay to keep close. Then he slid open the door's locking mechanism, pulled open the door, and quickly stepped inside before the prisoner could escape. Jay slipped in behind him, looking nervous.

The room was extremely dark and his HUD had to brighten its video display once the door slammed shut. As he looked for the prisoner inside, he saw that the cell was dingy and disgusting. There was a puddle of water in the center of the room and the rest of the floor was slick with condensed moisture. There was graffiti scrawled across every available surface and someone had carved _IMPERIALS SUCK GETT'SE _in foot-high letters across the wall.

"Charming," Jay said with a grimace as she studied the room as well. "And your sister's been stuck in here for three days?"

"It's not so bad," a quiet female voice suddenly said. "Once you get used to the smell."

Jay jumped and spun toward the sound. Vhetin followed at a slower pace. He picked out the shadowy shape of a prison cot anchored against the wall. Sitting cross-legged on top of it was the dark figure of a woman, her eyes shining in the darkness. She took them both in, looking them up and down for a few moments, as still as a durasteel statue.

"Why'd you come?" she eventually asked. "And who's the girl?"

"_Girl_?" Jay echoed indignantly.

Vhetin stepped in. "This is my partner, Jay."

"Really?" the woman said, eyes flashing again. She turned her scrutiny to Jay, looking her up and down again. "I've heard a lot about you, Jay. Thought you'd look tougher. Not so... fragile."

Jay flushed, looking furious. The shadowy woman ignored her and instead turned her gaze back to Vhetin. She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes.

"I heard you were back in town," she said. "Wasn't sure I wanted to believe it."

"I would have thought you'd be happier to see me," Vhetin said. "I've been missing for three months."

The woman shrugged. "I knew you'd be back sooner or later. You always are."

"I heard that you were attacked. Are you all right?"

"Imperials are all talk and no fight," she replied nonchalantly. "You didn't answer my question. Why are you here?"

He stared at her for a few moments, then said, "I need your help, Janada."

"Oh?" she said. "With what? You're the big, bad bounty hunter. Between you and your pretty little partner, I would have thought you had all the firepower you needed."

"It's not an issue of firepower," Vhetin said. "It's an issue of equipment. I need a new suit."

That got her attention. She leaned forward into the light, revealing a square face with long black hair tied back in a simple loose braid. She had dark, angry eyes, and thin, arching eyebrows that gave her a powerful gaze when she frowned. She was wearing an orange prison jumpsuit, the top of which she had unzipped and tied around her waist. Beneath that she was wearing an oil-stained sleeveless shirt that revealed the tattoo of the Supercommando insignia – a variation of the traditional Mandalorian _kyr'bes_ or mythosaur skull – on her shoulder.

She stared at him with her dark gaze for a few moments, as if judging whether he was lying, then slowly leaned back into the shadows. "Why would you want my help?"

"Come on, Janada," he said, a little exasperated. She was toying with him, poking fun at him, he knew it. "You're the best engineer I know and we both know you love designing new armor variations. Plus you're the only one I'd trust with a job like this. We are legally family, after all."

She stared at him for a long time. Then her lips twitched up in a small smile, breaking her facade for but a moment. She quickly settled back into her previous glare and said, "I'm listening."

He folded his arms and said, "You know the particulars of my capture?"

She nodded. "Brianna filled me in on the details a few days after you disappeared. She seemed pretty broken up about it all."

Vhetin's face turned down in a scowl at the thought of his ex-girlfriend. "Yeah, well she's obviously moved past that phase."

He forcibly pushed those dark thoughts aside and said, "When I went up against those Red Guards and the stormtroopers that followed them, I realized that my traditional armor provided good ballistic protection, but slowed me down. I need to be lighter and faster, but not so much that I sacrifice all my armor's protection."

"What are you proposing?" she asked, leaning forward again and rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

He displayed a series of schematics from his gauntlet holoprojector into mid-air and said, "I was thinking typical plates and helmet made out of a durasteel-phrik alloy with a single coating of _beskar_, as well as compound arm and leg armor. I also have some ideas about interchangeable gauntlet weaponry that you might find interesting."

She stared at the schematics, then sighed and leaned back against the wall. "That's all well and good, but I can't design anything while I'm stuck in here."

"I've paid your bail," Vhetin said, taking a step back and gesture toward the door. "You're free to go, but you'll have to be in court in two weeks."

"Or they'll do what?" she asked with a wider smile. "Send a bounty hunter after me?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I'll drag you over there myself. I didn't just drop two thousand credits so you could skip your court date."

Her face finally broke into a full grin and she quickly hopped off her cot. She clapped him on the shoulder affectionately. "It's good to have you back, Stripes. I missed you."

"I'm serious," he said as she stepped past him and pushed open the cell block door. He once again secured his helmet over his head as he followed her outside. "I've got more important things to do than constantly bail an adopted older sister out of jail."

Janada blinked against the brighter lights outside the cell. Verdo saw her and sighed in relief. He stepped forward and hugged her gently.

"You had me worried, _cyar'ika_," he said. "The way you were behaving, I was starting to think those Imperials were going to keep you in there forever."

She grinned and hugged him back. "I figured that as long as I was stuck here, I might as well give these kriffers a show to remember."

"Just like last time?" Vhetin asked.

"Or the time before that?" Verdo added, stepping back.

"Kriff you both," she said, grinning from ear to ear. "Let's just get the hell out of here, yeah?"

Vhetin nodded and pointed further down the hall. "Contraband is stored down that hall. You can pick up your gear while I finish up the paperwork to get you out of here."

"Yeah, I remember the way," Janada said. "I know this place like the back of my hand."

"You say that like it's an accomplishment."

"Hey," she scoffed as they parted ways, "if you ever have to break into the cell block to rescue some big fancy space princess or something during your work, who will you turn to for help?"

Vhetin laughed, then put a hand on Jay's shoulder. He lowered his voice and said, "Go with her to pick up her equipment, will you? Keep an eye on her and make sure she keeps out of trouble."

"Me?" Jay asked, surprised. "Why me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he said as he and Verdo headed back to the main reception area. "She likes you."

Jay stared after her partner, then sighed and jogged the other way, after Janada.

* * *

Jay leaned against the wall outside the fem's dressing room in the cargo storage area of the cell blocks, waiting while Janada changed out of her prison fatigues and into her Mando armor. She entertained herself for a while by observing all the contraband weapons and equipment the Imperials had stored there; it was Mandalore after all, so there were very few drugs or other non-lethal objects to be found. But when the officer in charge of the storage bay began glaring at her warningly, she decided to find another way to keep herself occupied.

"How's it going in there?" she called.

"Fine," came Janada's curt response.

"Then what's the holdup?"

"Have you ever worn _beskar'gam_?"

Jay frowned. "No."

"Well this stuff has, like, nineteen layers," the woman snapped. "Not exactly something you just slip into. Get it?"

"Right," Jay said, lapsing into silence again.

There was a clatter of something metallic inside the changing room, followed by a curse from Janada. Eventually, the woman grunted and said, "So... you're the one who busted Stripes out of that Imperial prison?"

"It was a research facility," Jay corrected slowly, "but yeah. Me and my team."

"I guess I owe you, then," Janada said matter-of-factly. "I was starting to believe everyone's talk that he was dead."

Jay frowned. "How did you meet Cin? I mean... well, you don't seem like someone he would run across in his daily schedule. You're no bounty hunter."

"You obviously don't know Mandalorians very well," Janada chuckled. "No, I may not be a _beroya_, but I can hold my own in any fight Cin can."

"You didn't answer my question."

There was a pause from the other side of the changing room door. Then, Janada said, "I've known Stripes since he was only fourteen years old. I assume you've been told about how he came to _Manda'yaim_?"

"He told me, yes."

"Yeah, well a few months after... _it_ happened, Rame asked me to teach a new recruit of his how to fight like a Mando. No martial arts, no acrobatic Teras Kasi crap, just simple hand-to-hand combat. I thought, _what the hell_, and agreed. That's how I met Cin."

"What, and you just adopted him like that?"

"Of course not," she said. "But I liked the kid, and he seemed to like me. Like I'm sure you know, he was really shy about his past. I was curious, but didn't press the issue; there are plenty of _Mando'ade_ with rough histories in Keldabe.

"When he went off to be a big, bad bounty hunter," she continued, "he usually came to me for equipment requests. Things got close. Sometimes I think I was one of the only people he trusted. And I mean actually trusted, not just someone he acted nice around."

"So how does he go from close friend to little brother?" Jay asked. "I like Cin too, but I'm not about to make him family any time soon."

"Difference of personality, I guess," Janada replied nonchalantly. "Truth? I felt sorry for the guy. He had no family, few friends, a questionable future. I don't think anyone should go through life without the comfort of a family."

"Noble of you," Jay said, not sure if she believed the woman or not.

"Watch that tone, _aruetii_," the woman muttered. "You can believe what you want, but I'm telling the truth."

She sighed. "He came to talk to me after a really tough Imperial contract. He was... pretty broken up. Apparently had been ordered to shoot a kid, but he couldn't do it."

"I've heard about that," Jay said. "When he tried to leave the Imperial task force, they claimed he was deserting."

"Right. I'd never seen him in such a state. He talked about how he couldn't handle it, couldn't handle the violence and the evil he had to face. He kept babbling on about how _it_ wasn't fair and how he wished _it_ had never happened. I eventually asked what _it_ was. He was reluctant at first, but he told me everything."

Jay rolled her eyes. "I wish he'd come clean as easily with me. I almost had to shoot him before he decided to tell the truth."

"I'm not surprised. Anyway, after he told me what had happened to him I decided it was long past time he realized that he could have a family to care about him. Within the next minute, he was my little brother."

"That quick?"

She chuckled. "You've never seen a Mando adoption ceremony? It's short, sweet, and to the point. We're not much for getting all teary-eyed and poetic at times like that. Usually the people who're being adopted don't want or need that kind of _osik_."

The door handle rattled and Janada stepped out of the changing room. Jay was surprised at the sudden change in the woman. Before, she had been wearing simple clothing: a sleeveless shirt and a standard-issue prison jumpsuit. Now, however, she was dressed in angular Mandalorian battle armor, painted a deep blood red with black designs across almost every surface. A black cape hung from her shoulders where most Mandos sported a jetpack, and she was carrying her helmet under her arm. Like the rest of her armor, her helmet was red with black trim and had a curving black triangular design painted onto the forehead of the helmet. She had pulled her hair back in a loose braid and was staring at Jay expectantly.

"Well?" she said. "Are we gonna get out of here or are you going to spend all day admiring my kit?"

As they stepped down the hall toward the contraband storage room, Jay had to admit Janada's armor was worthy of admiration. The suit was unlike any of the other Jay had seen during her time on Mandalore. Instead of the usual three-piece chest plate, it looked like Janada's armor was made of a compound neck/chest guard that tapered down in a triangular shape to a rounded point at her chest. Beneath that, she had the more traditional plates that were shaped a little smaller than usual for increased mobility to bend or turn at the waist. It looked like the plates had been bound together by a heavy layer of leather that was fastened to her flak vest. Janada also had interlocking plates bound around her arms and legs, compound armor that didn't seem to impede her movement in the slightest.

"So..." Jay said slowly, "where did you get your armor? It doesn't look like a MandalMotors job."

"I made it."

Jay blinked. "You made it? By yourself?"

"Pretty much," Janada replied with a shrug. "After I learned how to work _beskar_-"

"I thought only a few Mandos knew how to do that."

Janada chuckled. "And you think I'm not one of 'em?"

"I didn't say that."

"Just 'cause you found me in jail doesn't mean I'm like the other jailbirds stuck in this hellhole. I'm smarter than you think."

"Yet you were caught."

"By no less than six Imperials," Janada shot back. "Two of which had stun prods. Try those odds on, girl, and we'll see which of us is still standing after five minutes."

"Sorry... I didn't mean to insult you," Jay quickly said, cursing inwardly. She knew she should be polite – this was her partner's sister, after all – but she found it hard to get a reading on Janada. She seemed extremely laid-back, especially considering she had been held in captivity for the past few days. But Jay could also sense a steely determination behind the jokes and the sarcasm, something she recognized from her partnership with Vhetin.

This was obviously a woman to be reckoned with, and a woman who had taught Cin a lot. She deserved Jay's respect, even if Jay wasn't sure she wanted to give it yet.

"So," Janada eventually said, "you're my little bro's partner?"

"Yeah," Jay replied slowly. "I have been for the past year."

"He talks about you a lot, you know. At least, he did before he up and disappeared on us. He's very impressed with your abilities."

"I can't say I'm not impressed by his," she replied cautiously. "What's your interest?"

"Curiosity," Janada replied evenly. "Don't get all defensive, _aruetii_. People usually can't stand Stripes even for a short time; his attitude usually gets to 'em. But you've been working with him for a year now and you two aren't at each other's throats."

She stopped and turned to Jay, folding her arms across her chest. "So here's my question: what's _your_ interest?"

"What?"

"My little brother has very rarely partnered with anyone. He worked with Fett for a few months and he ended up shot in the back and hunted by the Empire. He worked with Durge for a bit and almost got blown into red paste when they got in a simple disagreement over whose transport to take for the contract. So what makes you so special?"

Jay paused, momentarily taken aback by the woman's aggressive tone. "I... I don't know. I'm just trustworthy, I guess."

Janada narrowed her eyes, then nodded silently and set off down the hall again. Jay stared after her for a few moments, then scowled and said, "Now wait a damn minute."

She quickly caught up with the other woman and stepped in front of her, halting their progress. "What's your problem? You think I'm some kind of stupid _aruetii _holding Cin back or something?"

Janada raised an eyebrow calmly. "I'm looking out for my little brother. He's smart enough, but he sometimes lacks a sense of perspective. He trusts too quickly."

"And you think I'm untrustworthy?" Jay said, folding her arms skeptically.

Janada held her glare for a long time. Then the woman sighed and said, "Look... you got any family?"

Jay nodded silently.

"Are you close to any of 'em?"

"My little sister," she said slowly. "Why?"

"You'd do anything for this sister?" Janada asked. "You'd give your life for her?"

"I would," Jay said immediately. It was true; she'd do anything for Arian, even if it cost her life. "What are you getting at?"

"Let's just say I was close to my family as well," Janada said, stepping past her, "and I lost almost all of them. The only family I really have now is my own little sister... and Cin."

"But..." Jay frowned. "Your last name is Bralor. Clan Bralor is one of the biggest families on Mandalore."

"And I give them my allegiance, loyalty, and love," Janada said. "But being adopted into a family isn't the same as welcoming someone else into yours. I'd do anything for the Bralors, but as far as immediate family... all I have is my own little sis and Stripes."

She shook her head as she walked. "You'd do anything for your sister, and I'd do anything for my brother. I'm just watching his back. That means watching you as well."

"I've been through a lot with Cin," Jay said, following closely. "There were a hundred times I could have hurt him or betrayed him. And I didn't. Hell, I brought him back in the first place!"

Janada nodded. "I know. I guess..."

She stopped again and fixed Jay with an intense stare. "Like I said, he's some of the last true family I have. I love him like he's been my brother all my life. And if you do anything to hurt him, you'll get a VIP spot at the top of my shit list. Got it?"

Jay thought over that. Aggression aside, Janada was saying she was worried about her brother. Jay could respect that, even if she was a little insulted by the way the other woman stated that concern. It sounded like she had lost loved ones; a situation with which Jay could sympathize.

Janada eventually fixed Jay with a thoughtful stare. "Tell you what: I'll make you a deal."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Cin's been gone a while," the other woman said. "And this mess with Brianna is going to screw with him in more ways than one. Now, you want me to trust you with my little brother's life?"

"Maybe."

"Then keep an eye on him. Keep him out of trouble. Make sure he... I don't know, make sure he knows he has someone to talk to. That there's someone there for him. 'Kay?"

"You're his sister," Jay said. "Doesn't he know he can come to you?"

"You know what Stripes is like. He doesn't like opening up to anyone, especially if they're close to him. But if he came clean with his past, that must mean he trusts you. He'll open up to you, even when he won't talk to me or Rame or Brianna. So... just be there for him, will you?"

Jay thought over this, then nodded. "I'm his partner. It's my duty to watch his back, even when we aren't in a firefight. I know he watches mine, so it's only fair I return the favor."

Janada nodded, looking impressed. "You've got _gett'se_, _aruetii_. And if Cin thinks you're trustworthy..."

She hesitated, then held out a hand. Jay stared at it, then grasped it firmly and shook it.

"... then I think we're gonna get along just fine."

Jay nodded, then followed as Janada continued down the hall to reclaim her gear. The contraband office was an armored checkpoint with a single transparisteel viewing window. Behind the window sat a bored-looking Imperial, watching them with barely-concealed contempt.

"I'm here to pick up the gear you stole from me," Janada said, fixing the Imperial with a defiant glare.

"Name?"

"Janada Umaan Bralor."

The Imperial pulled up a file on his holoterminal, then nodded. "Inventory lists a necklace, a field pistol, and two knives. That the sum of it?"

"They're called longdaggers, _di'kut_," Janada muttered. "Not knives."

"Whatever. Is that the extent of the equipment confiscated upon your arrest?"

"Yeah, that's it."

The Imperial stood from his seat with an melodramatic sigh and slouched into the shelves of confiscated weapons and tech held in his room. He disappeared behind one storage rack and Jay could hear him rummaging around. He finally brought back a plastoid box, which he slid through the opening in the transparisteel window. Janada quickly snatched the box from him, taking it to a table set into the wall just behind them. She pulled the lid off and quickly looked over the box's contents, no doubt judging whether the Imperials had messed with her stuff.

Looking over the woman's shoulder, Jay saw two crossed knives – _longdaggers_, she reminded herself – safely held in a backpack-like sheath made of black leather. There was also a heavily-modified field pistol that was tiny, only about the size of her hand, but looked like it could definitely pack a punch. The first thing Janada grabbed, however, was a necklace made of tiny, interlocking durasteel chains. Dangling from the end of the necklace were two glowing armor tabs, looking as if they had been pulled from Mandalorian armor.

"What is that?" she asked as Janada quickly fastened the necklace around her neck and tucked it down the neck of her suit.

"Family memento," was all the woman would say.

Jay narrowed her eyes a little, but didn't push the issue. She had spent enough time with Vhetin to know when someone didn't want to talk about something. So she instead nodded toward the longdaggers and said, "I've seen Mandalorians use all kinds of weapons, but I've never seen a weapon like that."

"Another family memento," Janada said as she picked up the sheathed longdaggers. She slung the backpack sheath over her shoulders, tucking it under her cape so the handles poked up through the collar, then pulled one dagger free. Jay saw the wickedly curved blade of the weapon was made of polished silver _beskar_ and was inset with tiny Mandalorian runes. Jay tried to make out the words, but didn't have enough of a working knowledge of _Mando'a_ to understand it.

"What's that say?"

"_Vercopa ibic kad'ikase hiibir sol'yc tal, gayiyla dalyc akaanir,_" Janada said quietly.

"And that means?"

"_May this blade draw first blood, wherever she may fight_. It's an ancient Mando blessing, back from when we actually had religion."

"And your weapons are female?"

Janada grinned. "Most _aruetiise_ see their ships as female. It's the same concept for us _Mando'ade_. We just focus on more... useful tools."

"Right. And are you any good with a... what did you call it? _Kad'ikase_?"

Janada laughed and sheathed the blade across her back with a single, fluid motion. "Let's just say you wouldn't want to find yourself on the other side of a battlefield when I've got these babies. Remember, I taught Cin everything he knows about melee weapons."

Jay pondered that, then nodded. "Right. So you're good."

"_Very _good," said a new voice. They turned to find Vhetin and Verdo approaching. Vhetin, the speaker, tipped his head when he saw Janada in full armor and said, "Nice to see you're bouncing back from your incarceration. Just try not to use those blades before we leave."

"No promises," Janada said with a sudden scowl. She glared at the contraband officer and said, "These kriffers took my stuff in the first place. Besides, _kad'ikase_ are next to impossible to identify on an autopsy report. They look like any other knife slash. They just kill quicker."

She drew her thumb across her throat, still staring at the contraband officer. The man shifted uncomfortably, then busied himself with his holoterminal, pointedly avoiding Janada's challenging gaze.

Vhetin stepped between the two and said, "Okay, calm down, _vod_. Let's remember who just paid for you to get out of here. Try not to completely bankrupt me in the next ten minutes, all right?"

"No promises," she said again, then set off down the hall.

Jay stared after her, then looked to her partner. "I don't mean to be rude, Cin," she said, "but I can't tell if I like her or if she scares the living kriff out of me."

"I think it's a mix of both," Verdo said with a grin.

* * *

A visitor was waiting for them when the group returned to _Void, _which was stationed in the small docking bay outside Imperial Garrison Command. Denton Dral was leaning against the doorframe leading out to _Void_, watching the ship intently. Jay's face broke into a smile when she saw him; Vhetin and the others hung back warily, unsure of this newcomer in their midst.

Dral smiled when he saw Jay, gave her a quick kiss, and exchanged a few quiet words with her. When she turned and ushered the others closer, Vhetin noticed the gold-armored man's distracted gaze. Something was clearly wrong.

"Officer Dral," he said, tipping his head in greeting. "What can we do for you?"

"I see you managed to get your sister out of jail," Dral said with a crooked grin. "Good; Ume'o has been asking about her whereabouts a little too often for my patience."

"What do you want?" Janada said, folding her arms. "I don't think you came all this way to visit me."

Dral rubbed his chin, looking lost in thought. Eventually he sighed and said, "About six hours ago, we were called in to investigate an attempted homicide. When we got there, we found out that a _Mando'ad _had tried to kill a local storekeeper. Just barged in, pulled a gun..."

"And what makes that so special?"

"The assailant, who ended up dead, was outfitted with some kind of armored collar. We think it was placed on the guy against his will. Now, we don't know what the collar did to this guy or who put it on him. But the preliminary autopsy showed that the collar was definitely the cause of death and the guy had contusions on his wrists and ankles."

"So he had been tied up," Vhetin said. "Held captive."

"For quite a long time, it seems. The victim's family reported that he had been missing for two weeks before he showed up dead at our crime scene. And anyone who can beat up and kidnap a Mando warrior in his prime..."

He let the threat hang in the air.

"What are you asking?" Vhetin said. He had to admit, he was interested now. Dral was right; anyone who could subdue a well-trained Mandalorian warrior was a threat. And if this guy was planning to kidnap more... "You want me and Jay to help your investigation?"

Dral sighed. "Not... not quite. The enforcement office doesn't like turning to outside help for investigations. But the truth is that we're stumped here. If you could just come down to the crime scene and poke around for a bit... you know, offer any input..."

Jay nodded instantly. "We can do that."

Vhetin held up a hand. "Not so fast, Jay. I've got some things I have to take care of first. I just got back, so I'm busy for the moment."

"What, you're not going to help?" Jay said, sounding genuinely surprised.

He shook his head. "No. But I suggest we split up. You head down to the crime scene. You can record anything you find and send it to me. I have to head down to MandalMotors anyway; I'm sure there's someone down there that'll be able to find out what kind of collar that is."

Janada cleared her throat unselfconsciously. Vhetin looked to her and slowly said, "...or I could just ask you when we get there."

"Damn right," the woman muttered.

Jay thought over this, then nodded. "Right. I'll give you a call if I find anything out of the ordinary."

"I don't want to impose," Dral quickly said. "Vhetin, I know you just got back and I'm sure you aren't feeling your best. If you want to sit this one out, I won't hold it against you."

As if on cue, Vhetin felt his stomach churn dangerously. He quickly forced the feeling away. "I'm fine. And I'd be happy to help you out. As soon as I'm finished up with my own work, I'll head straight over to the crime scene."

Jay nodded. "Think you can give me a ride to the scene, Denton?"

Dral nodded. "Sure. But... there's one other thing."

Vhetin raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"Well... you and Jay aren't the only ones the enforcement office has reached out to."

"Who else will be working with us?"

"We've sent an officer to ask your new companion, the Handmaiden, for assistance," Dral said with a grimace. "As distasteful as it might be working with an Echani, she claims to have traveled all over the galaxy. Plus, aren't Echani known for, you know, taking one look at an area and being able to tell people all kinds of things about it?"

Jay nodded. "Yeah. But you haven't seen Cin and his psychometry."

"His what?"

She shook her head. "I'll explain later."

"And who else will be with us?" Vhetin asked.

"Another bounty hunter who expressed interest in helping," Dral said hesitantly. "She said she knew the victim and insisted that she be allowed access."

"Might be useful," Vhetin said. "We might be able to interview her and get a little more info. Who is she?"

"Do you really have to ask?" said a familiar voice. Brianna stepped out from behind the doorway just behind Denton, dressed in her full hunting regalia, arms folded across her chest.

Vhetin narrowed his eyes. "Brianna."

Janada sighed and muttered, "Uh-oh. Shit-storm alert."

Brianna glared at Janada, then hesitantly met Vhetin's gaze. "Look, don't make a big deal out of this. I knew Matt and I promised his wife I would figure out what happened. That's the only reason I'm here."

Vhetin said nothing. Dral looked to Vhetin apologetically, then said, "The Handmaiden has already agreed to meet us at the crime scene. Jay and Brianna will catch a ride with me."

"Then you know where to find me," Vhetin said, stepping through the door and heading toward _Void_. He purposefully kept himself from looking at Brianna. "If anyone needs my help, they can reach me At MandalMotors Tower."

"I'll keep you updated," Jay said. "See you in a bit."

"Be careful," Brianna added, then looked as is if she wished she hadn't said anything.

"Your concern is noted," Vhetin said coldly, then strode up the landing ramp. Janada pulled on her helmet and followed, Verdo just behind. Within the next five minutes, _Void_ lifted off and roared into the sky, leaving Denton, Jay, and Brianna far behind.

* * *

_Author's Note: As always, feedback is much appreciated. Let me know what you think of the story so far!_

_Also, since I forgot to put this in the prologue, Kardai Aruer appears courtesy of BrownCoatMando on . And in case I forget again, Corey Black will be making a return appearance in the next chapter, courtesy of Corey Black here on DA._


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Investigations

"This is the place," Denton called from the front seat. He guided the speeder carefully through the streets, wary of unobservant pedestrians. "Retur'ce's Re-Supply."

Jay looked out the window as they passed the shop. It looked like every other building in Keldabe; old, worn, and a little shabby. The only difference was that this building had police speeders swarming all around it. Two officers – wearing uniform gold armor like Denton – were blocking off the area with holographic crime scene markers.

"Who'd want to kill someone here?" Jay asked. "Was it a robbery?"

"Witness reports claim otherwise," Denton said, keeping his eyes on the road. "The victim just walked in and pulled a gun on the shopkeeper. He didn't want anything from the register, didn't take any merchandise..."

Brianna shook her head. "I hate cases like this. So we're starting from scratch?"

"Pretty much," Denton admitted. "Our only lead is that collar. Let's hope your boyfriend can dig something up."

"Ex-boyfriend," Brianna corrected tersely.

"Whatever. All I'm really concerned about is solving this case."

He parked the speeder and triggered the comm unit mounted on his collar plate. "This is Unit Five-Bravo-Eight-Nine, on scene with our advisors."

The comm crackled and a female voice said, "Copy that, Five-Bravo. We have the... other one... here already."

Denton sighed as they exited the speeder. "Great. Sounds like the white-head is already here."

Jay shot him a glare. "Hey. Remember what I said about using that term?"

He flinched. "Sorry. Force of habit."

"For as great a warrior as you claim this Echani is," Brianna muttered, "you'd think she'd be a little less sensitive about what people call her."

"You know how you get all touchy when people comment on your clothes?"

Brianna looked down at her hunting gear: a revealing leather flak vest cut at the arms, chest, and belly, with rough work pants and heavy-duty combat boots. She scowled and said, "Yeah, but people are unbelievably rude when they talk about my gear."

"Mandalorians and Echani have a long-standing rivalry," Jay said. "You think the comments she's getting are any less rude?"

Brianna thought about this for a few moments, then muttered, "I guess I can see your point."

The female officer met them at the door to the shop. Unlike Denton and the other cops in the area, she wasn't wearing the reflective gold armor of the local precinct. She was wearing a brown leather jacket with a black undershirt. She held out a hand to Denton, shaking her short blonde hair out of her eyes.

"Officer Dral," the woman said. "Nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise," Denton said. "And you are?"

"Trainee Khale Ruusan," she replied quickly, snapping off a crisp salute. Jay recognized the motion from a previous deployment with the Mandalorian Supercommandos. This woman obviously marched with the mercenary army, though her slightly jumpy attitude suggested she had little experience with the police force.

Denton seemed to come to this conclusion as well. He frowned and said, "Trainee?"

"Yes sir," Khale said with a quick nod. "The office is a little short-handed at the moment, so they sent me down to oversee progress here."

"Right," Denton said. He gestured to Jay and Brianna, "These are our two consultants: my girlfriend, Jay Moqena, and Brianna Bellan. Both bounty hunters."

"More _beroyas_, eh?" Ruusan said. "Well the white one is already taking a look around inside."

"Any updates?" Denton said as the officer led them into the shop.

"We've got nothing new from the witnesses, but if you want to talk to them, they're in the back room. We've also got an extra person to interview. Showed up about an hour ago saying he knew the victim. He's also in the back room."

As they stepped through the door, Jay almost instantly picked out the white-clad figure of the Handmaiden standing in the center of the busy police investigation. She had her hood pulled up over her head and was simply looking around the room with narrowed blue eyes. When she saw Jay, she nodded slightly in greeting and returned to her studies.

Jay touched Brianna's arm and motioned for the other woman to follow her. She stepped toward the Echani and said, "Finding anything interesting?"

Handmaiden sighed. "I have attempted three times already to explain the cause of death to these Justice-Dealers, but they will not listen to me."

"They're called police officers," Brianna said. She spoke slowly, as if cautious of how she dealt with the Handmaiden.

"Among my people," Handmaiden murmured, kneeling and staring closely at a spot on the hardwood floor, "those charged with keeping the peace are known as Justice-Dealers. I believe such a title to be more indicative of the profession than _police officer_."

"Right," Brianna sighed, rubbing her eyes wearily. "So you Echani really are as friendly as they say."

"Les," Jay said, "This is Brianna Bellan, another bounty hunter."

"A Mandalorian?"

"No. An outsider like you and me."

The Handmaiden slowly stood, looking at Brianna with newfound respect. "You pledge no allegiance to these brutish mercenaries, yet you chose to live among them?"

She narrowed her eyes and held out a black-gloved hand. "I believe we are both warriors of the same quality. I would be honored to fight alongside you someday, Brianna Bellan."

Brianna hesitantly shook her hand, looking uncomfortable. "Um... thanks. I think."

"You said you figured out the cause of death?" Jay asked.

The Echani nodded. "I have been studying the crime scene. I have a good idea of what happened here."

"Care to show us what you've found?"

The Handmaiden nodded and led them back toward the door. She pointed to a particular area of the floor. "See the scuff marks there? The breakup in the minute layer of dust and dirt? Those are bootprints of the culprit as he staggered into the shop."

Jay didn't see anything, but she trusted the Handmaiden's abilities. She'd seen Les track down Imperial agents based on a single hair fiber taken from the target's jacket. Vhetin's psychometry was the only thing Jay could think of that was more impressive.

"Okay," she said, "so this is where the guy came through the door. What more can you tell us?"

Les then led them to the transparisteel countertop and gestured to a faint handprint on the surface. "There was another man standing here. The pressure marks on the surface indicate he was leaning here. He was speaking with the shopkeeper. Things were casual. Calm."

"So what happened?"

She gestured to a stand of farming tools next to the door. "That stand was knocked over. Someone – I assume the same being who was standing here – was thrown into the display."

She then led them to the center of the room and knelt over a dark, dried bloodstain on the floor. Next to it was a holographic representation of where the victim's body had fallen. The Handmaiden disregarded this, however, and tapped a slight chip out of the floor in the center of the blood pool. "Here, the victim was struck with a sharpened weapon, possibly a vibrolade. He was stabbed through the boot, the weapon gouging a chip out of the floor."

She led them across the floor and gestured to several scratches on the floor. "After being stabbed, the victim fell and crawled across the floor. The collar he was wearing scratched the floor in random, erratic patterns. He was not in control of his body. He was convulsing violently."

She pointed to a small scorch mark near the edge of one counter. "This burn suggests that there was a sudden burst of electricity."

"Was he hit with a stun shot?" Brianna asked.

"According to witness reports, he was. But the convulsing was inconsistent with the power of such a shot."

"Which means?"

"There was more electricity coursing through this man's system than a single stun shot could transfer," the Handmaiden said. "I don't know the purpose of the man's collar, but I believe it sent a sudden surge of electricity though his body that eventually killed him."

Brianna nodded, obviously impressed. "Nice work. And you learned all that from just looking at the crime scene?"

"Echani are masters of observation," the Handmaiden murmured. "We are trained from infancy to search for the slightest of clues in an environment. It is one of the many reasons we are so effective in combat."

Jay nodded, half to herself, and said, "If the officers won't listen to you, I'll take this to Denton. He'll pay attention."

"We may also need to get Cin down here," Brianna said, leaning against the counter. "He may be able to use his psychometry to figure out even more."

The Handmaiden narrowed her eyes skeptically. "Your Mandalorian can read memories through touch? Please excuse me, but that is ridiculous."

"Doesn't matter what you think," Jay said. "He's done incredible things with his ability."

"I will believe it when I see it."

"Didn't you used to say the same thing?" Brianna asked Jay. "Back on Mon Cal?"

Jay nodded. "Until he used it to track our target just by touching a piece of burnt rubble. Look, you two stay here, poke around, and see what else you can dig up. I'm going to go talk to Denton and see what else I can find out."

With that, she left Brianna and the Handmaiden, heading toward the back room where the witnesses were being held. She knocked twice, until Trainee Ruusan opened the door and ushered her in. It looked like the enforcement officers were struggling to keep the situation outside the building under control; Jay could already see a crowd of _aruetii _holonet reporters gathering outside, clamoring from a statement from anyone involved.

"Ah crap," Ruusan muttered. She gestured to the back room and said, "You head inside. I'll do what I can to keep the media vultures at bay."

The woman stormed off, heading for the mob gathering outside. She was muttering curses the whole time, shaking her head and tucking her short hair under a military-issue cap. Jay stared after her, long enough to see her get swallowed up by the crowd, then turned into the back room.

The room looked like nothing more than a storage area for excess supplies. There were unopened supply boxes stacked along the walls, along with bags of grassgrain seed and – true to Mandalorian form – crates of ammunition and weapons. It looked like several crates had been hastily moved to provide seating for the witnesses.

There were a number of people crowded into the room: Denton and three others Jay didn't recognize. There was a Mandalorian in dull steel armor with black splashes, another with blood red armor marked with black slash marks and a blue-lit helmet visor, and a man in plain work clothes.

Denton was rubbing his eyes wearily and saying, "So you can't think of any reason for the attack, Mr. Retur'ce?"

"I keep tellin' you no!" the man in plainclothes snapped. "I'm an honest, everyday Mando. I sell farm supplies and occasionally sell weapons and ammo to the Protectors. I ain't had so much as a bad comm call from an unhappy customer!"

"There's no way this was some kind of revenge killing," the gray-armored man muttered. "It looked to me like a mugging gone bad."

"But nothing was taken, Mr. Aruer," Denton sighed. "And by your reports, the victim didn't even try to take anything."

"Could it have been spice?" Jay asked, stepping up next to Denton and folding her arms. "You know, he was high on some drug and lost his mind?"

The man in the red armor shook his helmeted head. "Not a chance. Matt was no junkie. He knew he had too much on the line, what with his wife and kid."

"I agree," came Brianna's voice from the doorway. Jay turned to find the woman leaning against the doorframe, eyes narrowed distractedly. When she noticed everyone staring at her, she shook her head and muttered, "Matt used to have a drug problem, yes, but he gave it all up when he was married."

The red-armored man cocked his head. "You knew Matt?"

"I'm a friend of his wife," she replied. "We used to have shoot-outs at the range every weekend."

"I...I know you, don't I?" the man said. "You're... Brianna, right? Cin Vhetin's girlfriend?"

"Ex-girlfriend," Brianna corrected.

"Oh. Well, I'm Corey Black. I brought the Oppo Tor contract to Vhetin."

Brianna nodded. "I remember you. You changed your kit since the last time we met."

"Force of necessity," was all Corey said. "So you're assisting the investigation?"

She nodded again. "I promised Lia I would help."

Denton cleared his throat. "The reunion is nice and all, but we've still got a dead _Mando'ad_ and no answers. Mr Retur'ce, Mr. Aruer, if you can think of anything else..."

Aruer sighed. "I don't know what else to tell you, son. I just came in to buy some grassgrain seed and some random psycho bursts in and just about puts a blaster bolt through me and the shopkeeper here."

"He's not _some random psycho_," Brianna said heatedly. "He was a good man and a proud Mandalorian."

"He put a gun in my face."

Brianna was about to say more when Ruusan suddenly stuck her head through the door and said, "Um... you might want to get out here, Dral. The Echani found something."

Jay bit back a grin and said, "I knew she would. Echani may be hard to work with, but they never let you down when you need it."

They found the Handmaiden kneeling next to the burn mark on the ground. She was rubbing her gloved fingertips together, sniffing something. Jay touched her shoulder gently and she jumped as if startled. She looked up, then murmured, "I am glad you are here. I believe I may have found more evidence."

"What is it?" Denton asked, cocking his head.

"There is a slight trace of a powdery substance here on the floor. I believe it came from the victim's body."

Denton knelt next to her and traced his fingers over the floor. They came back lightly powdered with a reddish tinge. He frowned, then touched his fingers to the scanner built into his gauntlet. "I'll send this over to the labs and see what they can dig up. There may be more on the body that the morgue can look for."

"Can I get a copy of that?" Jay asked. "I want to forward the scan to Cin and see what he can do with it. He's got information sources scattered across the galaxy. He'll be able to find out something."

There was a tap at the door. They looked up to see an armored Mandalorian in a dark over-armor poncho knocking on the glass door of the shop. Denton let out a quiet curse and gestured to one of the other gold-armored officers. "Bren, head over there and get that idiot out of the doorway."

Jay was about to turn back to the crime scene when something made her look closer at the man in the doorway. He was wearing dull green armor with blue trim. His poncho was dark blue as well. But the man's bulky green neck guard was what caught her gaze.

"Denton..." she said slowly.

"What?" he asked, still staring at the floor.

"Get that cop back."

"What?"

"The man in the door," she said. "Look at his neck."

He looked up and squinted at the man, particularly at the collar wrapped around his neck. "Son of a bitch..."

Then he was on his feet, running for the officer heading to chase him away. "Bren! Don't open the-"

Too late; the officer pulled the door open and growled, "There's a police investigation going on here, so please-"

The man in the doorway knocked the officer back with an uppercut to the chin. He then took two steps inside and pulled off his poncho. Strapped to his chest were three belts of grenades, all of them primed and ready to detonate.

Things happened very fast from that moment on. There was a blur of white as the Handmaiden threw herself behind the counter. Brianna leaped toward the corner, where she would be best protected from the blast. Denton drew his gun and shouted, "Bomb!"

As if in slow motion, the armored man raised one hand, a detonator clasped in his fist and a grimace of pain on his face. He let out a gasp and screamed, "_Help me_!"

Then there was a silent blast of white and Jay felt herself lifted off her feet by a tremendous shockwave. She was slammed back over the counter in a shower of wood, glass, and metal. Denton vanished in a cloud of fire, and she could see the bomber for a split-second, silhouetted in black against the flames before her vision finally faded.

* * *

The first sensation that returned was her sense of taste. She could taste a vile mixture of blood and soot in her mouth. She sucked in a pained breath and coughed out a mouthful of ash. She blinked, then dazedly wondered why her vision was red. Realizing there was blood in her eyes, she slowly reached up and wiped at a cut on her forehead.

She felt someone shake her roughly. She groaned and struggled to rise to her hands and knees. A muffled voice said, "Easy, easy. You got quite a knock over the head."

"What..." Jay groaned. "What happened?"

The voice grew clearer, until Jay recognized that it was Trainee Ruusan speaking. "Suicide bomber. Tried to take us all out."

Jay remembered the sudden blast of light and the way Denton had been enveloped by a cloud of fire. She gasped and sat up. "Denton! Is he all right?"

"He's fine," Ruusan reassured her. She looked awful, covered in ash and blood and dust. Her short blond hair was almost black with soot and dirt and her face was scratched and bruised. Jay doubted her own looks were much better. "Everyone is fine, except for a few scrapes and bruises. The reporters outside took the worst of it; looks like there are a few casualties out there. Medics are on their way."

Jay coughed, holding her pounding head. Her blurry vision began to clear, and she was able to make out the inside of the shop again. The floor and walls had been scorched black, the front windows shattered. There was a large crater in the floor where the booby-trapped Mandalorian had been standing and there were open fires burning everywhere. People were screaming outside, enforcement officers were scrambling to preserve crime scene evidence, and several of the reporters were lying sprawled in the street, unmoving.

Ruusan helped Jay rise gingerly to her feet. Jay nodded and thanked the woman before stumbling off and bracing herself against the scorched counter.

The Handmaiden staggered into her field of vision, her pristine white suit stained with dirt and ash. She was bleeding profusely from a wound on her shoulder and another cut on her forehead. She was blinking quickly, obviously still dazed from the blast.

"Les," Jay gasped. "You all right?"

"I am fit for battle," the Echani muttered. "Who dared to attack us?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Head out and give the enforcement officers a hand. Paramedics should be here soon."

Brianna appeared next, limping up from one corner with Corey Black and Kardai Aruer. She was holding her side and had a bruise forming on her forehead, but she looked otherwise fine. She was cursing and shaking her head.

"What do you mean there's none of it left?" she snapped. "There has to be something. Blood, gore, body bits... people don't just explode without leaving a trace!"

"Whoever that guy was," Black was saying, "he used some kind of high-grade incendiary explosive. He was burned to a crisp."

"What about his armor? _Beskar'gam_ doesn't melt. It should still be here."

"Unless he had that shitty new durasteel stuff," Kardai growled. "Looks like _beskar'gam_ for a fraction of the cost. That would have gone up like a match under that kind of heat."

"And what about the evidence we found?" Brianna snapped. "The powder or the burn scars?"

"Nothing."

She ran a hand through her hair and snapped, "_Damn_ it!"

Denton came storming out of the back room, armor burned and blackened. He looked otherwise fine, however; his armor must have taken the force out of the explosion. He saw Jay and hurried over, a relieved smile stretching across his face. He pulled her into a tight hug and murmured, "Are you all right?"

"Fine," she sighed. "You?"

"Battered and bruised, but okay," he held her at arm's length, looking her up and down. "You don't look too worse for wear."

She let out an exhausted chuckle and wiped ash from her eyes. "Liar."

"Officer Dral?" Ruusan said. "We've got the enforcement office on comms. They want to know what the hell just happened."

He turned to the woman and said, "Tell them we're up to our asses in casualties and wounded here. We need those paramedics here as quick as they can manage. Tell them to put up a barricade around the block and keep any more civilians from getting in here. We don't know how many more of those suicide bombers are out there."

He turned back to Jay and squeezed her shoulders. "I need you to send the information we scanned to your buddy Vhetin. We need to know what the hell just happened. Can you do that for me?"

She nodded. "I'm on it. I'll transmit it as soon as I can."

He shook his head. "No. I want you to take it to him personally. Head up to MandalMotors, tell him what's happening."

"What? But after what just-"

"I need to make absolutely sure the data gets there," Denton said. "I don't know what that bomber was trying to pull, but it looks a hell of a lot like he was trying to eliminate the evidence. We can't afford to let what we have go up in smoke."

He sighed. "Besides, if there are people wandering around with bombs strapped to their chests, I want you as far away from this place as possible. Can you do that? For me?"

She bit her lip. She didn't want to leave, not when it was so dangerous for her friends. But Denton had a point; they had to make sure the data got to Vhetin. So she grudgingly nodded and said, "I'll take it to Cin. But if anything happens, I want you to call me right away."

He nodded, then stepped away and followed Ruusan out the door, rushing to help other officers care for the wounded until the paramedics showed up

Jay was about to follow him outside and grab a taxi to MandalMotors when the Handmaiden jogged up. Her pale face was turned down in a furious scowl.

"Moqena," she snapped. "I have something to show you."

Jay frowned and stepped closer. "What have you found?"

"I was trying to look over the scene and estimate what was affected by the blast. If evidence was damaged, Justice-Dealer Dral would need to be informed. But when I searched the cache of evidence, it was gone!"

"Wait, wait," Jay said. "Slow down. What was gone?"

"The collar taken from the original victim!" the Handmaiden snapped. "The same collar the bomber was wearing!"

"Okay," Jay said calmly. "Take a breath, Les. We still have the scans Denton took, right? We can take that to Vhetin?"

"The projector was damaged by the blast," the Echani muttered. "Much of the data was corrupted. All that is left is a preliminary scan of both the collar and the powdery substance. The victim's autopsy, the witness testimonies... it is all gone."

Jay sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Then she held out a hand. "Give me the projector. Corrupted or no, it'll still have information Vhetin can use."

"But what happened to the first collar?"

Jay shook her head. "I don't know. Was it destroyed?"

"Unlikely. There was no sign of shrapnel or debris. If I had to guess, I would say someone had taken it."

"Okay," she said slowly. "Then maybe it wasn't stolen. Check with the other enforcement officers and see if anyone moved it. Maybe someone just transferred it out of the blast zone."

Handmaiden looked at the Mandalorians hurrying around the shop and narrowed her pale blue eyes. "If it is missing... one of the Justice-Dealers may have taken it for personal gain. Worse, they may be working with the being orchestrating these attacks. If so, there are few here we can trust."

"Reign in the paranoia, Les," Jay said, holding up her hands in a placating gesture. "You can trust me, you can trust Brianna, and you can trust Denton. That's three on our side already. Keep poking around here; I'm going to head down to MandalMotors and get this info to Cin and Janada."

The Handmaiden nodded slowly. "Please make haste. I have no wish to spend time alone with these barbarians."

Jay put a hand on her shoulder. "Just play nice. I've sent word to D'harhan and he said he's on his way."

"So I shall be alone with a horde of Mandalorians and a brutish walking explosive device," the Echani muttered, rolling her eyes. "I am very comforted."

Jay nodded with a slight smile, then turned and strode out the door, looking for a taxi. As she walked, she passed by the bodies of ten or twelve HoloNet reporters that had been killed by the blast. She stared at them for a moment, then sighed and shook her head.

Les had said guessed someone was behind all these attacks, and the Echani rarely guessed wrong. If what she said was true, the culprit had no problem killing innocents to cover his tracks. And whoever it was had the ability to use battle-hardened Mandalorians as weapons.

Jay wasn't too proud to admit that the thought scared her in a way few things could.

* * *

**MandalMotors Tower, Keldabe City Center**

Janada led Vhetin away from the main entrance of MandalMotors Tower, to a much smaller building connected to the base of the massive rust-red skyscraper. They passed by several holographic signs that read – in both Basic and _Mando'a_ – that trespassers were not welcome and would be prosecuted with extreme prejudice.

Vhetin didn't blame the intensity of the warning. MandalMotors was the planet's leading hypernautics company, responsible for more than half of the local government's revenue. A company of such vast importance to the economy could not afford to have lax security. Industrial espionage, especially concerning MandalMotors, was punishable by exile or death.

Janada paid the signs no mind, however, and led him straight to a heavy blast door with the same _keep-out_ warnings as before. Janada stepped up to the heavy durasteel door and pounded a fist against the door.

"Hey!" she shouted. "Open up!"

There was silence for a few moments, then a voice from the other side of the door said, "Bralor? Is that you?"

"It's me, _di'kut_. Open up!"

"I thought you were still in the Imp-hole."

"Upside of having a little brother who's richer than a Hutt on spice," Janada said. "I got out this afternoon."

"What're you doing back so soon?"

"I love my job," Janada replied easily. "Can you let me in now, or do you have any other stupid-ass questions to ask?"

There was a pause, then a loud _clank_. The door rumbled open, revealing a Mando in oil-stained, rust red coveralls. He scratched his bald head, then shrugged and muttered, "Whatever. R-and-D is waiting for you anyway. You've got a visitor and boy is she pissed at you."

Janada stepped through the door with a small smile, heading straight down a short hallway leading further into the building. "Good. Nice to know she could call the cops or ask around where I've been, but she just decides to come here and hang out at my job."

The guard chuckled and stepped aside to let them pass.

Vhetin stepped up the pace and caught up with Janada. "So do you really think you'll be able to figure out what kind of collar was used in that crime scene?"

"Only one way to find out," Janada said with a shrug. "But chances are good that if it has any tech from the Clone Wars onward, I'll be able to recognize it."

"You seem very confident," he observed. "Are you sure you aren't overestimating your skills just a little?"

"No."

Vhetin smiled and let the matter rest. He knew Janada would do her best to identify the tech used. She had always had a talent for mechanical problems. There was no reason that would have changed now.

"So how have you been?" Vhetin asked. "You've obviously been trying to stay out of trouble."

Janada laughed. "I've been good. Working hard, keeping busy. Glad to not have a crazy younger brother pestering me all the time."

He chuckled. "I missed you too, _vod_."

"I'm actually interested in your new equipment request. You really spent the last three months designing new armor in your cell?"

He nodded. "There wasn't much else to do. And you had to keep busy or run the risk of driving yourself insane."

She brought them to a stop, folding her arms and leaning against the wall. She hesitated, thinking for a few moments. Then she looked up at him and said, "Cin... I know I can sometimes seem a little... callous. But I was worried about you. When I first heard the Imps had taken you down, I wanted to hunt down each and every one of those sadistic kriffers and kill 'em in the slowest, most painful way I know how."

Vhetin nodded. "I know, Janada."

She shook her head. "I... just wanted you to know that. I never gave up on you."

He smiled and put a hand on his sister's shoulder. "Out of everyone in my life, I know I can always count on you to have faith in me."

She nodded. "And when I heard that Brianna had given up hope... sorry, Cin, but I wanted to beat the living daylights out of her."

"Probably not the best idea," Vhetin said. "You just got out of jail. Let's give it a few months before someone has to cart you back in there."

She smiled. "Deal."

She grasped his forearm in a traditional Mando handshake. "It's damn good to have you back, little bro."

He nodded. "Damn good to be back."

She cleared her throat and seemed to regain a little more of her composure. "Now let's check on the R-and-D department. I'd be surprised if they didn't blow something up while I was gone."

They reached the end of the hallway, which was blocked off by a heavy blast door marked _EMPLOYEES ONLY. _Janada pulled an identification card out of a pouch on her belt and held it up to the reader mounted next to the door. The reader scanned the card, then beeped and unlocked the door.

The door led into one of Vhetin's favorite areas of MandalMotors: the special Research-and-Development wing. It was a spacious room, packed from wall to wall with research stations and works-in-progress. Technicians – Mandalorian and _aruetii_ alike – hurried about the room, working hard on their specific projects. Sparks danced across the permacrete floor and the air was acrid with the smoke and ion burn. Lights hanging from durasteel chains dangled overhead, casting warm, bright light across the manufacturing floor and giving the area a bright, safe look. Vhetin knew that it was anything but safe inside, however. Next to the main door was a holographic readout displaying the number of days since the last workshop accident. In twenty years, the display had never climbed above single digit numbers.

Janada spread her arms, closed her eyes, and took a deep, long breath. She then shook her head and said, "Shit I missed this place. And I've only been gone a week."

She then opened her eyes and said, "I guess this is a homecoming for the both of us, huh?"

Vhetin nodded. "In a manner of speaking. Let's get to your station."

They made their way slowly through the construction floor, careful not to disturb others work. It was not easy; there were equipment speeders racing back and forth, technicians darting from station to station, and overseers ambling back and forth across the area. The warehouse teemed with movement, sound, and life. Vhetin found it strangely exhilarating.

"So," Janada said, swerving to avoid an equipment speeder laden with crates of wiring, "what exactly did you have in mind when you were designing new armor?"

Vhetin chuckled. "What didn't I have in mind? Three months in captivity, you start grasping at every damn straw you can think of."

"Can you think of any to start?"

He nodded. "I want a melee weapon. Preferably on my person."

"You have a _beskad_. You just don't use it."

He shook his helmeted head. "No, not a sword. I'm talking about something that's actually part of my armor. Preferably something small, retractable. My designs are similar to those old gauntlet blades Republic Commandos used to pack."

Janada pondered over this for a moment, then nodded with a smile. "I think we have just the thing."

She led him over to a station toward the south-eastern corner of the room, where a man with long, stringy hair and heavy welding goggles strapped across his face was working on upgrading some kind of blaster. Janada folded her arms with a grin and said, "Hey Dantori?"

The man didn't answer, instead continued welding away. The steady stutter of his welding torch was obviously affecting his hearing. Janada sighed, then shook her head and shouted, "Dantori! Open your damned ears!"

When he still didn't answer, Janada picked up a heavy restraining bolt and threw it at him. The metal bolt hit the man in the side of the head, making him flinch and curse. He yanked his goggles off, looking around through bleary eyes for his attacker.

"What the bloody hell are you doin' Bralor?" the man indignantly cried. "Tryin' to brain me?"

"I need to take a look at Prototype A-fourteen. The melee unit."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Dantori snapped. "Nice to see you too. Right back to it, eh?"

"Right back to it," Janada echoed. "I'm a workaholic at heart. Are you gonna give me the prototype or no?"

The man scowled, pulled open a drawer and pulled out what looked like a standard, blue-painted Mandalorian gauntlet. Janada thanked him, then beckoned Vhetin closer. She grinned mischievously and said, "I think you're gonna love this."

She turned the gauntlet in her hands, the reflective blue metal shining in the overhead lights. "Looks like any other gauntlet, right?"

"I guess."

"Wrong," she said. "This design is based on the tech of a Mando weaponsmith who was commissioned by an _aruetii_ _kyramud_, an assassin. This assassin didn't like using blasters or projectiles during his contracts and wanted something a little stealthier."

"So?"

She pressed a button on the gauntlet and a hand-length melee knife sprang from the top of the armor piece, sliding out of its housing with a metallic _shink_. Vhetin jumped slightly, surprised. Janada laughed at his reaction, shaking the bladed gauntlet in his face. "All the guy would have to do is put a hand on his target, blink at an icon on his HUD, and this blade would cut right through his target's throat. Quick, easy, stealthy."

"Impressive as it is, I was thinking of something a little more... substantial," Vhetin said. "I can't block a vibroblade with that little thing."

"Ah, but that's the beauty of it," she laughed. "Our friend the assassin reasoned along similar lines. So he requested this..."

Another button and the blade sprang out again, now almost twice the previous length. It looked as if the full length of the blade rested inside the entire length of the gauntlet, wrist to elbow. Such a weapon would be extremely useful in combat.

He nodded. "Consider me impressed."

"Oh but that's not all. This way."

She led him to another crate inside Dantori's station and pulled it open. Inside was an armored chest piece, obviously still in production. It had manufacturing stickers plastered across its surface and it hadn't even been painted yet. But unlike a typical Mandalorian breastplate, which sported three segmented plates, this piece seemed to be made of interlocking triangular sheets of _beskar _that roughly made up the more traditional shape Vhetin was used to.

Janada shook the piece for emphasis. "Eh? You like?"

He grimaced. "I'm not sure. Plate separation leaves a hunter vulnerable to melee attacks. You know that."

"Yeah." Janada sighed in exasperation. "But if we attach the chest piece to a heavy leather flak vest, you get twice as much maneuverability with almost as much damage protection. Just try it for a bit and see how you like it."

"Let me... let me think over it for a bit," he said. "I mean, it's not even my color scheme."

"Oh stuff it," Janada scoffed. She shoved the armor plating toward him. "Just try it. If you don't like it, you can chuck it right back where it came from."

He sighed. "Okay. I'll try it."

"There's a good boy," his sister said. She tossed him the chest piece, then folded her arms expectantly.

He sighed again, then unbuckled his armored flak vest. He pulled it off and set it on the table next to him. When he picked up the new chest piece, he found it to be far lighter than he had thought. He had to admit, he was impressed by the rock-hard strength, yet surprising flexibility of the interlocking plates. He quickly slipped into the vest, Janada helping him buckle it up the sides. Once it was sitting comfortably on his shoulders, he began testing his range of movement. He stretched, arching his back and rotating his shoulders. He then bent forward, reaching down and touching his boots.

"Very good," Vhetin said, straightening again. "I like it."

"Don't forget the gauntlets."

"Janada..."

"Put the damn gauntlets on," she snapped. "I have more to show you."

"More off-color, half-finished tech?"

She grinned. "Got it in one. This way."

Vhetin quickly swapped out gauntlets, picking up his discarded armor and carrying it with him. He swerved to avoid a Mando on a tall ladder, putting the final cosmetic touches on a SkyRaptor fighter. Sparks bounced off his helmet, then faded as he passed by.

"You're in luck," Janada said. "R-and-D has been working almost non-stop on new armor designs. Some new project _Mand'alor_ has been pushing through."

"Shysa's got a secret project?"

"You could call it that," Janada said with a shrug. "He just wanted us to start researching new armor designs and weaponry. And since you're my little bro, I've decided to give you full access to all our prototypes."

"Generous of you."

"Not quite. Some of our stuff is still untested. Could blow up in your face."

"Ah."

"Most of it is fine."

"Most of it."

Janada moved to step into an intersection, then threw out a hand as a speeder cart raced toward her. The driver slammed on the vehicle's brakes, bringing the speeder skidding to a halt. She scowled and snapped, "Watch it, _osik'kov_!"

The man responded with an equally vile curse, adding a rude hand gesture to the mix as well. Janada rolled her eyes and gestured for Vhetin to hurry up.

"R-and-D seems busier than usual," Vhetin observed as the angry driver sped past them.

"Part of that secret project I told you about."

Vhetin chuckled. "And here I was thinking they had all turned out to welcome you back."

Next on the list was a pair of thigh plates with built-in sheaths for ammunition packs. After that came two bicep guards wrapped with belts of throwing knives. Then came an up-armored rocket pack, with extra fuel packs and thicker armor plating. Finally, Janada held out a blue-white helmet.

"No," Vhetin said. "No, no, I'm not giving up my bucket."

Janada scowled at him. "Come on, Stripes. It's got scanners twice as strong as your normal kit, doubled cranial protection, and a scanner system that rivals most military gear. And..."

She pulled the helmet over her head. There was a slight pause, then there was a bright flash and the visor began to glow red. Moments later, it flashed blue. Then green. Then purple. Then a deep amber color.

"Infrared, "Janada said as the visor cycled colors. "Sonar. Night vision. Ultraviolet. And finally deep scanning."

"My old helmet did most of that already," Vhetin said. "And it didn't light up like a Nar Shadda brothel when it did."

"You can shut down the visor glow if you want. But it's sometimes useful for scare tactics and intimidation. Food for thought at least."

"Right. Anything else?"

"Oh yeah." There was suddenly a deep _chack-chack_ and the visor itself slid up into the helmet's housing. It separated into three parts, the horizontal strip sliding upward into the forehead and the vertical bar splitting in half and sliding into either side of the visor's trim. Janada, face now revealed, raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"Aren't you tired of your HUD overloading all the time?" Janada said. She gestured to the open visor. "Sputtering out when you get hit with an overcharged ion bolt? Meet MandalMotors' solution."

"Sounds like you read that straight out of the holocommercial," Vhetin said with a chuckle. "_Vod_, I don't think I will ever need that."

"At least try it," Janada said. With a quiet _shink_ the visor pieces slid seamlessly back together, transforming once again into the tinted death-helm of the Mandalorian battle helmet. Pulling it off her head, she said, "There are more upgrades on the way, so it would be good to keep it. At least for now."

Vhetin reluctantly accepted, swapping out his helmet for the new one. Once done, he looked down at his new armor: a collection of blue, white, steel gray, and black. There were manufacturing stickers and warning signs covering every piece of armor.

"I look like a kriffing circus clown," he sighed. "Can't you at least paint it first?"

"It's a prototype suit," Janada sighed. "Most of these systems haven't even been tested together before. If you like it, you can buy it and have it custom painted later."

Vhetin was about to say more when Janada looked over her shoulder, then sighed, "Ah shit."

Standing further down the aisle was a young girl, no older than fifteen. She had the same square face, dark hair, and brown eyes as Janada; the family resemblance was unmistakable. She was sitting on the edge of a workbench, holding a hand-held datapad with a frown on her face.

"Now I'm in for it," Janada muttered. She took a deep breath, forced a smile on her face, and stepped toward the girl. She knelt, resting her arms on her knees and cocking her head to one side.

"Hi there, Tran," she said with a smile. "What are you doing sitting on my desk?"

The girl was silent, tapping away at her pad.

"Did you miss me?"

Silence.

Janada's smile faltered, then returned. "If you'd look up from your pad, you'd see that Stripes is back too."

"You missed dinner," the girl finally said. "I made your favorite. Nuna strips."

Janada sighed. "Yeah. I'm sorry about that. But I'll thoroughly enjoy the leftovers."

"There aren't any," the girl said. "That dinner was four days ago."

"Oh."

She looked up from her datapad now, gaze full of anger. "You also missed my school performance. We reenacted the Battle of Pakarius, where _Mand'alor_ the Dark defeated the Republic armies trying to conquer us."

She narrowed her eyes. "You promised you would be there, Jannie. You _promised_!"

"I know, I know," Janada sighed, taking the girl's hand. "And I'm sorry, Tranyc. I wanted to go. I would have given anything to have gone. But the Imps screwed up our plans again."

"That's not what I heard," Tranyc said, setting aside her datapad. "I heard you picked a fight with an Imperial. That's why you went to jail."

"I... well, I did. But they tried to take Dad's _kad'ikase_. I couldn't let that happen. You know that."

The girl turned her head away. "I guess."

Janada took the girl's other hand. "Hey. Hey, I'll make it up to you. I promise."

"Like you promised last time?"

"Not like last time."

Tranyc narrowed her dark brown eyes. "Swear it."

Janada nodded without hesitation. "I swear on Mom and Dad's names I'll make it up to you."

The girl held her gaze for a few moments, then nodded. "All right. On Mom and Dad's names."

Janada nodded with a smile and stood, brushing hair out of her eyes. She gestured to Vhetin and said, "And aren't you forgetting something? Don't be rude to your favorite bounty hunter."

Tranyc looked up at Vhetin and wrinkled her nose. "Uncle Stripes? You look different."

"A temporary change while I'm upgrading armor," Vhetin said with a smile. "It's nice to see you again, Tranyc."

The girl nodded. "Nice to see you too. Everyone thought you were dead."

"Glad to prove them wrong. How have you been?"

She shrugged and picked up her datapad again. "Jannie still won't let me join the Protectors, no matter how much I want to."

"You and I both know that you aren't ready for the Protectors," Janada said. "Vanto didn't make it through the last deployment and he had five years of training on you."

"Vanto was a fat, ugly, slob," Tranyc said. "I'm amazed they even let him into the Protectors."

"You can't join Shysa and the Protectors," Janada said. "And that's final."

"I'm fifteen years old!" Tranyc exclaimed indignantly. "I have the choice to join at _ten_!"

"Tranyc," Janada sighed, "we've been over this before..."

Vhetin was more than happy to leave the sisters to their bickering. He was about to check out a new _beskad_ design when he heard a commotion from further on in the room, near the door. He frowned behind his helmet and made his way across the manufacturing floor.

As he drew closer, he discovered that someone without authorization was trying to get into the R&D department. There were two red-armored security guards arguing with the intruder, rifles drawn and charged. Vhetin was content to leave the argument to the guards until he recognized the voice of the dirty, ash-stained figure fighting with them.

"Let me through!" the woman was shouting. "I need to get in here now!"

One of the security officers – known throughout the city as Tower Guards – threw an arm out and blocked her approach. He shoved her back and growled, "Stay back, _aruetii_. This place is off-limits to everyone but the engineers. Back off now."

Vhetin pushed his way through the crowd gathering around them. "Jay? What are you doing here?"

"Cin?" Jay squinted at him, not recognizing his new armor.

He nodded reassuringly. "It's me."

She let out a long, relieved breath and wiped ash from her face. "Thank the Emperor that I found you."

"Watch your language," one of the Tower Guards muttered.

"Okay," Vhetin said, holding up a calming hand. "Calm down, everyone. Guards, she's with me."

The Tower Guards eyed Jay suspiciously, then shook their heads and stalked off. "She tries to pull anything, it's on you."

Jay half-staggered forward, almost looking as if she was about to collapse from relief. Vhetin caught her shoulder and said, "_Osik_, Jay, what happened to you?"

She swallowed, grimacing as if the motion was painful, and wiped ash from her face again. She only managed to smear it further across her face. "Suicide bomber... tried to take out the crime scene."

"Shit," Vhetin said. Brianna had been there, investigating with the others. "Is everyone okay?"

"A few officers were killed in the blast," she said, leaning against the wall. She had a deep cut down her calf and was bleeding profusely. "A bunch of reporters were also hit."

"And Denton?"

"He's fine. He's pissed, but he's fine."

"Any idea who was responsible?"

"No," she said, holding her leg. "Damn it... everything was going fine, then the whole place was blown sky-high."

"And the evidence?"

"Destroyed," she said with a wince. "But we managed to save the scans Denton took. We also found some kind of powdery substance on the floor. We've got the chemical scans of that too."

He nodded, then gestured to her leg. "And you're sure you're okay?"

She nodded. "It's just a scratch. I'll be fine."

"Then let's get this stuff to Janada. She's itching to get her hands on some of this tech."

Janada and Tranyc were still arguing when they got back, but both women stopped mid-sentence when they saw the state Jay was in. Janada raised her eyebrows and said, "Wow, girl. You sure know how to party."

Jay grimaced, holding her back as she eased herself into a nearby chair. "Yeah. I had the time of my life."

"What happened?" Tranyc asked, eyes wide.

Jay quickly brought the two up to speed on everything that had happened. While doing so, she pulled a roll of adhesive bandages from her jacket and began tightly binding her wounded leg. Janada listened intently, brows furrowed in concentration, while Tranyc's brown eyes darted between her sister, Jay, and Vhetin so quickly that she looked like she was trying to follow a flitterbee buzzing around her head.

When Jay finished by reporting that the original device had gone missing, Janada sighed and rubbed her forehead. "But you managed to keep your scans of the thing, right?"

Jay nodded and pulled the miniature holorecorder from her pocket. With the push of a button, the floating holographic scan of the collar device was floating in the air before them, rotating slowly.

Janada folded her arms and stared at the hologram intently. "Well, I don't know just what it is off the top of my head."

"Really?" Vhetin said, skeptical. His sister knew almost everything about mechanics. "You have to know something."

"I do know that it wasn't just a collar," Janada said. She gestured for Jay to give her the holoprojector. "Here. I'll show you."

She led them through the room, around busy workstations and arguing technicians. She was almost run over by a massive wheeled loadlifter droid carrying crates of scrap metal, but she managed to hop nimbly out of the way before the large treaded wheels crushed her.

Finally, after stopping to yell at a negligent engineer that had almost burned Tranyc in a shower of white-hot sparks, they emerged into a round, clear area at the center of the R&D lab. There were several Mandalorian and _aruetii _engineers scattered around the area, laying out holographic blueprints on the floor for all to see or just chatting casually. In the middle of this arena was a large, round holoprojector, currently powered down. There was a green-grey Mandalorian typing into the projector's console and when Janada saw him, her face broke into a grin.

"Hey there, Baldie," she said as she approached. She tapped the man on his bald head, then leaned against the projector next to him.

The man turned with a scowl and Vhetin was surprised to see that it was Ume'o Eruk, one of the senior engineers at MandalMotors and Vhetin's personal armorsmith. He was rarely seen in the R-and-D department; too chaotic, he claimed.

"I've told you not to call me that, Bralor," he growled, slowly turning back to the holoprojector. "What do you want?"

"I need to use the Amy."

"I'm using it," Ume'o snapped. "Come back later."

"It's important."

"So's this."

"It's police business."

That got the man's attention. His head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes. "What the hell did you get yourself into this time?"

"Nothing!" Janada replied indignantly. "I mean, yeah, I just got out of jail, but this isn't about me."

Vhetin jumped in before his sister made matters worse for herself. "I've been asked to offer assistance to a police investigation. We have a piece of tech we need to identify. Janada volunteered to help."

Ume'o sighed and shook his head. "You do realize you're supposed to be working, right Bralor?"

"I know," Janada replied. "But this is way more fun. Besides, imagine all the publicity MandalMotors will get if we end up solving this case. Think about the headlines: _MANDALMOTORS CENTRAL TO SOLVING MURDER. PROVES THEY'RE NOT JUST A BUNCH OF GREASE MONKEYS."_

Ume'o pondered over that, then shook his head. "All right, fine. The Amy is all yours. Just remember that you do actually work here. Don't get distracted by some high-flung suicide mission your _vod_ is getting himself tangled up in."

Vhetin inclined his head. "I'm not sure whether to be flattered or insulted, Ume'o."

"Try neither," the bald man growled. "Don't bother any other engineers while you're working."

He stalked off, tipping his head to Jay and muttering, "Moqena."

Jay nodded back. "Always a pleasure, Ume'o."

She then turned back to Janada and folded her arms. "So what is this? Some kind of scanner?"

"This is the heart of MandalMotors R-and-D, the Advanced Image Manipulation Interface. AIMI, for short."

"Image manipulation?" Jay echoed. "What does that mean?"

"See for yourself," Janada said. She plugged the holotransmitter into the projector and typed in a few commands. There was a bright flash of light, then the holographic scan of the metallic collar sprang to life over the projector. A few more commands and the hologram floated down to eye-level between their group. Jay's eyes widened when Janada reached out, calmly grabbed the hologram, and began turning it over in her hands, studying it closely.

"What the hell?"Jay said. "How did you do that?"

Janada laughed and tossed the holographic collar to Jay, who instinctively reached out and caught it. Her fingers passed straight through the projection, but the hologram reacted as if she had caught a solid object. She held up the holo-collar, turning it and passing it from hand to hand.

"It's made of experimental holographic reaction tech," Janada explained. "There are special readers set through this entire central area that read your motions and alter the hologram to react accordingly."

"I'm surprised the Imperials don't have tech like this."

Vhetin laughed. "Where do you think MandalMotors got it?"

"What, you mean they... they stole it?"

Janada raised an eyebrow. "Just between us, MandalMotors has an entire wing tasked with undercover industrial espionage. We got ahold of this tech a couple years ago and its been the foundation of the R-and-D department ever since."

"Okay," Jay said, tossing the holo-collar back to Janada. "So work your magic. What can you tell us from this?"

Janada turned the collar over once more in her hands, then spread her hands and watched as the collar fragmented into pieces that floated, slowly rotating, in the air. She studied the flickering holograms for a few moments, rubbing her chin slowly. Jay glanced between Vhetin and the engineer quickly, looking caught between fascination at the holographic interface and impatience while waiting for Janada's answer. Vhetin let his sister work at her own pace; she'd find something, he was sure of it.

Sure enough, Janada eventually nodded to herself and said, "Okay, so I can now safely say it's a modified, up-armored electro-shock collar. See the power pack there? That was designed and surgically implanted to send charged electro-static shocks straight into the wearer's spinal column, causing maximum pain with minimal biological damage."

"So why would our collar-wearers need such advanced restraints? I mean, this isn't the most subtle piece of equipment out there."

Janada shook her head. "Not my department. You just wanted me to figure out what it was."

"Anything else?"

Janada narrowed her eyes, then reached out and grabbed one of the rotating holo-collar pieces. She drew her hands apart and the hologram stretched, growing until it was three times its original size. She tapped one boxy section of the fragment, which began to glow red.

"See that?" she said. "I don't get that."

"What is it?"

"It's a wave-length hypertransmitter," Janada said. "This is the kind of tech used on high-grade military communications units."

"Why would someone rig a transmitter to an electroshock collar?" Tranyc asked, cocking her head.

"I don't know," Janada murmured, shaking her head. "But it looks like that transmitter was surgically implanted right into the auditory nerve. Whoever was speaking through the transmitter would have been all but talking right in the wearer's head."

"Whoever put those collars on wanted to send out orders without being heard or intercepted," Vhetin said, half to himself. "Its obvious these hits were premeditated. And whoever did the premeditating would have needed some way to ensure his assassins did their jobs right."

"What, so he was controlling them?" Jay said skeptically.

Vhetin nodded. "Giving them orders and monitoring them through the collar's sensors. If they did something he didn't like, he'd give them a shock, like training a strill."

"That's disgusting," Tranyc said.

"But it would explain the way Matt died," Jay said slowly, rubbing her chin. "Convulsions, screaming even though no one was hurting him..."

Janada nodded as well. "Not a great leap forward in the investigation, but it's progress."

"Can you tell us who made this collar?" Vhetin asked.

Janada moved the holo-collar piece from hand to hand, studying it closely. Eventually she sighed and shook her head, slowly reassembling the flickering holograms until they formed the full collar once more. "No way to tell like this. I'll check into manufacturing techniques, but I don't know if I'll find anything. If you want quicker results, get me a real collar."

"I'll keep an eye out," Vhetin said darkly. "I get the feeling we're going to be seeing a lot more of these before long."

"Good. Anything else you need from me?" Janada said, tossing the hologram over her shoulder. It spun to a hovering halt in the center of the projector behind her, then flickered out.

Jay nodded. "We also found traces of a powdery substance on the collar. We managed to take chemical scans before the evidence was destroyed."

"Pull it up," Janada said, gesturing to the projector.

Jay quickly stepped toward the machine and typed in a few hurried commands. A new hologram flickered to life now; not a machine this time, but a complex molecular structure Vhetin didn't recognize.

Jay stepped back, gesturing to the hologram. "It was obviously organic, but I don't know what it is off the top of my head."

Janada stared at the holo, a tight look coming to her face. She put a hand on Tranyc's shoulder and murmured, "Go find Uncle Ume'o, Tran. Make sure he's not yelling at anyone."

"But I want to stay!" the girl objected.

"Now, _vod'ika_," Janada said, her tone leaving no room for argument. Her sister glared at her, then let out an explosive sigh and stomped off across the manufacturing floor.

Vhetin, meanwhile, was staring at the chemical readout floating in the air above him, taking scans and recordings so he could file the information in his HUD systems for later study. He narrowed his eyes as the readings scrolled across his holographic HUD screen, then shook his head. "I don't recognize it. Some kind of manufactured compound, but I can't tell what it does."

He pulled a miniature datapad from his belt and began typing into it. "I'll send a message to some contacts of mine. It might take a while, but they'll find out what this is."

"No need," Janada said. "It's Red Spice."

Vhetin and Jay both paused, staring at the woman for a few long moments. Jay raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"And... how do you know that?" she asked slowly.

"The mixture of tetrachloridium and savortium enzymes," Janada said, pointing to the hologram. "Those are the two active ingredients of Red Spice."

Jay stared at the engineer with surprise and a bit of suspicion. "You um... you certainly know your chemistry."

Janada sighed. "Okay, so maybe I used to have a bit of a drug problem. I spent about a year in prison when I was caught dealing, but when I was still using I ran across Red Spice a couple times. Nasty drug."

Vhetin had known about his sister's drug problem but had never heard her speak openly about it before. It had been before his time on Mandalore and she had never seemed comfortable talking about it. He, who knew better than anyone the importance of a private personal history, had never pressed the matter.

"What are the effects?" he eventually asked.

"Starts off pretty good," Janada said with a shrug. "You get a little light headed, fingers get tingly. Kind of like getting a buzz off alcohol. You get feelings of happiness and extreme comfort. Really good for if you're having a bad day, you know?"

She sighed. "But after a while, the light-headedness turns to outright dementia and the tingling turns to pain. You start hallucinating, you can't control your bodily functions, your motor control goes out the window. Your internal temperature skyrockets, causing fever and aches. I don't even know half the other symptoms, but I know that repeated use is really bad for your brain. It literally turns the inside of your skull to soup after a few months."

"Okay," Jay said slowly. "So it's obviously not a light-end drug."

"No it's not," Janada said, shaking her head vehemently. "It's highly addictive and very dangerous. As you can imagine, operating with only a quarter of your brain opens you up to some... fairly primitive behavior."

"Violent behavior?" Vhetin inquired.

Janada nodded. "If taken in the right doses, oh yeah. The Imps toss you in prison if they even see the stuff near you. And I found that out the hard way."

Jay cocked her head. "What happened?"

Janada glanced at Vhetin. "Is she always this nosy?"

Vhetin bowed his head slightly. "She always means well with her questions. You can trust her, _vod_."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. "I got in with this guy. _Aruetii_, said he could help me pay off some debts I owed. He had me running drug shipments all over Keldabe. I needed the money and I was addicted to the drugs, so I pretty much did anything he said."

She folded her arms. "One day the Imperials decided to raid one of our safe houses. I was just getting ready to tell my buddy where he could stuff his drugs, since I was getting sick of being his back-alley delivery girl. But before the Imps clapped us in stun cuffs, he somehow managed to plant a packet of Red Spice on me. When the stormtroopers found it, I was off to jail in a heartbeat. Didn't even get a trial."

"I'm sorry," Jay said. "Did you ever find him again? Your drug-dealer friend?"

"Oh I found him," Janada said with a dark chuckle.

"And what did you do?"

"What do you think I did? I killed him."

"That seems a little... rash," Jay said slowly. "Why not make him prove you were innocent?"

"That man took a year off my life. When I caught up with him, I took a good twenty or thirty off his."

"Payback's a bitch,"Vhetin said with a shrug.

"And so am I," Janada finished with a scowl. "When I got out of that prison, I made myself a promise that I would never go back. And that man was a walking, talking ticket back to my cell."

Jay nodded, remembering her own time in Imperial custody. "I can sympathize with that."

"Yeah," Janada said with another sigh. "I heard about your jail time. I guess we're two of a kind."

"I guess so."

Janada folded her arms. "Who was responsible?"

"_Vod_," Vhetin murmured warningly. He knew his partner had very bad memories from her time in incarceration. He didn't want Janada overstepping her bounds.

But Jay just frowned and said, "Darth Vader. More or less."

Janada let out a low whistle. "Impressive. You must be at the top of the Empire's shit list."

"Pretty much," Jay said. "I guess we all have our enemies."

Vhetin was about to interject when a red-armored MandalMotors technician strode up to Jay, tapped her shoulder, and said, "Excuse me, ma'am, but you have an urgent call from the Keldabe Enforcement Office."

"Denton?" Jay asked, a look of fear entering her eyes. "Where's the nearest comm?"

Janada sighed as they set off across the warehouse floor again. "What could possibly have gone wrong now?"

* * *

**Keldabe City**

With heavy, pounding footsteps, the being once known as D'harhan stomped through the streets of Keldabe. The armored fleshlings that inhabited the city gave him a wide berth, staring at him with shock, awe, and even suspicion.

He didn't care.

His cannon was currently in standby mode, the status lights glowing green, but the weapon still tracked back and forth, scanning the area ahead.

The fleshling known as Moqena had requested his presence at the scene of some crime. Apparently there had been an explosion, and he was needed to ensure there were no more. He had to admit, he wasn't exactly looking forward to the assignment. He preferred missions that were simple and clear; missions where he could aim his cannon, fire away, and be done with it.

Despite what the Echani said, D'harhan was no brute. In fact, among his own people, he was once known as an artist. He was known across his homeworld as the most "cultured" of his brethren. Some even had the gall to call him weak and cowardly, despite his position in the local militia.

But it had all changed with the outbreak of what the fleshlings called the "Clone Wars." Though not directly affected by the war, some claimed the war agitated the legendary Scourge. Overnight, his homeworld was overrun with monstrous, leech-like aliens known as the Lugubraa. As mighty as his people were, they fell by the thousands to the terrible Scourge.

By the time his people discovered the Lugubraa invaders were a cloned creation of the Republic, they were too weak to do anything about it. War was the word on everyone's lips, but his brothers and sisters lacked the strength to fight for themselves. His entire species teetered on the brink of extinction.

Then came the Separatists. They were fleshlings, but used the powers of hardlings – what they called "droids" - to fight for them. To D'harhan's people, they seemed nothing short of magic. His world, far beyond the Outer Rim, had never seen such sights before.

But the promise of new technologies were not all the Separatists offered; they gave his people a way to fight the Lugubraa scourge. They offered to freely give every one of his people a miraculous new surgery that would give them the power to defend their homes.

D'harhan and all his brothers and sisters had jumped at the chance. They had submitted to the fleshling's surgeries with joy in their hearts. He still remembered speaking with his three sisters, whispering and laughing about how they would soon be killing Lugubraa by the thousands with their new powers.

But the fleshling's tongues dripped poison. Their surgeries did not make D'harhan and his people heroes, but monsters. Twisted hybrids of flesh and metal, they became, robbed of their senses and their emotions. Their brains were ripped from their skulls and placed in their chests, their heads removed and burned. D'harhan's terror and revulsion was repressed by the new mechanical implants, leaving him hollow inside. He wasn't even able to speak any more, confined to expression through an electronic synthesizer implanted where his throat used to be.

And when D'harhan and the others woke from their synthetic dreams, their war was already over. But it was not the glorious victory they were promised. They returned to their homes, transformed into great machines of war, to find their villages in ruins, their homes in flames. His homeworld had fallen even as D'harhan was given the power to strike back at those who sought to destroy him.

Fury filling his new mechanical heart, he regrouped with his remaining brethren and staged a devastating attack on the capital ship that had brought the Scourge to his people's home. Their new weapons created carnage even the Emperor only ever dreamed of. They killed Lugubraa left and right, until every deck of the ship was filled with the alien's corpses. But alas, the fight proved too much for his brothers and sisters. By the time their mission was complete, all the others, including D'harhan's sisters, had been killed. He stood, amidst a sea of Lugubraa blood, as the last Niordi in all the galaxy.

The fleshling Separatists, with their poisonous tongues, had returned at that moment. They praised D'harhan's strength and proclaimed him the strongest of all his people. They offered him a place of great power among the ranks of their hardlings, to march against those who had loosed the Scourge upon his people. They said all their research had been to find him, their "one perfect specimen" that would not only survive the surgery, but become better for it.

But D'harhan's heart no longer ruled his emotions; it had been removed and replaced with a power core that would keep both his body and his weapon functioning. His mind no longer ruled his actions; it had been flash-frozen, removed from his skull, and implanted in an armored processing unit in his chest.

So D'harhan had suddenly found he had little patience for the poisonous fleshlings and their poisonous words. He couldn't even see his homeworld now, as his eyes no longer saw the world around him. Instead, sensory readings from his primary weapon fed directly into his brain showing him that his world was devoid of life, save for the Lugubraa soldiers that swarmed across its surface.

The Separatists' words meant nothing to him any more. Their words meant as little to him as the buzzing of flitterbees around his head.

So he killed them. He killed them, their guards, their hardlings, and every other being that moved. Once done, he destroyed the entire ship and left. He had no trajectory, no goals, no desire but one: to kill. To kill again and again and again until the million souls of his people's ghosts had been avenged tenfold.

So he knew the Echani was wrong. He was no brute. He was simply a being of simple tastes.

He let out a creaking rumble, his shoulders rising and falling erratically. It was the closest he could come to a laugh, and it drew the gazes of fleshlings all across the street. He continued laughing until he ruptured a coolant tube and felt cold fluid dribbling down his leathery shoulder.

His laughter was cut short when he felt a sharp jerk in the back of his neck, felt something ripped from his body. His primary weapon fell limply to his chest, unable to move. He staggered slightly, his sensory information abruptly cutting out. A dull buzz rang out from his vocoder and he frantically tried to reach out and grasp the ground with his prosthetic tail, lest the weight of his limp cannon pitch him forward onto the ground.

Too late. His weight carried him too far forward, knocking him off balance. He crashed to the ground, trying in vain to power up his weapon. He felt a boot land on the armored rivets in his back that kept his prosthetic attached to his body.

"Well, well, well," a soft voice said. "If it isn't the legendary D'harhan, the Walking Death Machine. I've heard so much about you."

He felt a sudden surge of excruciating electricity course through his body. If he still had vocal cords, he would have screamed. By the time the surge abated, he was already losing consciousness. He had time only enough to hear the soft voice whisper, "I have great plans for you."

* * *

**Author's Note: **This took a little longer than I anticipated, but I finally got it done. Hope you enjoyed it. It was a lot of fun to write. As always, comments or reviews are very much appreciated.


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